The snow was falling more thickly now, blanketing everything in with a thick layer of white powder. It had been bitterly colds for weeks and weeks, but now that the snow finally started falling, it actually got warmer. Something that Moergan found completely illogical, everyone knew snow was cold, so it should be getting even colder, not warmer. Which in turn meant it fitted in quite well with the rest of this illogical place. In fact, the longer he stayed in Boeruine, the less he found it resembled what he still thought of as the “real” Anuire. ‘Well, travel does broaden the mind’ he through, ‘but there is nothing even remotely beautiful about it.’ Back on his father’s estate – well, technically Lord Jaison Shaeme was not his father anymore, not since he defied him and ran away – winter was not really cold, not like northern winters were cold. It was a bit on the chilly side perhaps, and quite moist, but there were rarely freezing temperatures, and snowfall was almost unheard of. Back south, snow was something novel that children played with; up here it was an enemy that could kill the unawares. Indeed, there were many things here in Boeruine that could kill you – the cold was one such thing, goblin marauders from the Five Peaks another.
