Across the southeastern Rooftops lie the Iceplains. The cold air sweeping from the west bring with it snows, which are dropped across the heights of the House, there to accumulate into vast sheets of ice, which flow unerringly downhill.

Where they reach the edge of the Rooftops, they spill out over the edge, into air, with all the ponderous slowness of a tortoise intent on a good meal. There, with a cataclysmic cracking a groaning, the vast sheets of ice sheer off under their own weight, to fall dizzying heights to the floor.

The sight is said to be breathtaking, as fifty thousand tonnes of ice rips from the mother glacier to tumble the three stories to the ground. The views from inside the House must be impressive, as the crackling berg falls past at high speed. The view from the ground would be spectacular, if brief, as the mountain of ice smashes into the remains of it’s brothers and sisters, with an earthshaking crash, throwing up splinters of ice like greatswords with shower over the local area.

****

The reindeer were restless.

Ruuk glared at the lead bull, throwing up his head and bellowing at his wives.

“Shut up, man. Can’t you see your frightening them?”

The bull glared back, a low rumble at the back of his throat. The cows were moving anxiously behind him, looking around as though a hunter was near.

“What is it, man?” Ruuk looked about. They weren’t far from the usual grazing grounds. He had veered somewhat off the track, and they were maybe a little further south. Not bear territory though. The reindeer were rarely spooked by anything less than that. They knew their herders could manage the lynx and the wolf.

Ruuk shook his head. He was making the mistake now, he was being spooked by it all. There was nothing here. He’d checked for spoor, and found a good little valley. Perfect grazing conditions. There was no need to move on until the morning.

“Here, man.” he took the bull reindeer by the collar, pulling the muffler over his mouth. “I’ll take it off again later, when you’re calmed down.”

He built a fire, as the light dimmed. Just enough to warm some water for a hot drink. He had plenty of jerk for food.

“Why did you talk me into this?” Ruuk said, seemingly to himself. “Just because I’m the younger brother. Gods, man. I could be with Inisaala now.” He drew a strip of the jerk from his pocket, and chewed on it. The bull was still skittish, but without the bellowing, the cows were calming down now.

Out here, the sky was brilliantly clear. The first stars were breaking out into the night sky, as it deepened into blackness. Take the reindeer round the southern pastures. That was what his brother had said. Go round countersun, and come back up from the South. As the night deepened, he piled the dried reindeer dung over the fire, to keep it burning while he slept. He slept.

The night was somehow disjointed. Ruuk woke in fits and starts, never sleeping for more than an hour. Inisaara kept flashing on his inward eye, an image he didn’t really want up here in the high valleys.

Note to any readers today: I’m afraid I have no idea what came out here. I’m going to keep working on it, and see what i can make, but probably not much. Morning!