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.