Which way to Hell?

For some, the Land of the Dead is a place of fire, but here in the North we know better.

It's ice all the way.

Which way lies Hell? Norðr ok níðr, says Snorri: “To the north and down.” "North and nether," one might say.

Oh, she's beautiful but deadly, Winter. Whether she comes as screeching black hag or ice-blue maiden, her embrace withers and kills.

Seven below as I write this, with predicted high of zero. The house creaks. Even sunlight feels cold.

By day, the White Lady walks her land.

By night, the Wild Hunt rides the sky.

O children of the North, be wise.

O children of the North, be wary.