The cold nature hit Ryker like a wall the moment he stepped out of the Warp Gate.
His breath turned to frost in the air. The sky above was painted a dull gray with heavy clouds blocking the little remaining sunlight. Below that canvas stretched a land blanketed in thick, white snow. Pine trees glazed in frost, icicles hanging from rocky cliffs and a wind that whistled like it was mocking every poor soul who dared wander this far north.
Ryker pulled his cloak tighter, his teeth already starting to chatter.
"Sweet heavens," he muttered as he rubbed his arms. "No warning at all?"
He turned to Eleanor, who stepped through the Warp Gate as if the cold didn't even exist. She looked utterly unfazed. Her hair flowing gently with the breeze, her long coat fluttering behind her like a black flag. She didn't even flinch.
"You could have told me we were coming here?" Ryker said, shivering as he stamped his boots in the snow.
