It turned out that making a sled was rather difficult. Getting the wood lined up along the base of the sled was hard enough, but getting the runners set along the bottom so that they aligned just right required a certain amount of patience and precision.

In the end, they came up with something that worked. It wasn't going to win any awards, but it got the job done. Frost had a newfound appreciation for the work of a good carpenter. He decided that it was a skill he ought to try to pick up one day. Frost also wondered what it would be like to combine frost magic with carpentry. Could he frost form tables, chairs, or even whole buildings with water? It was an interesting question. Truth be told, Frostilicus didn't know if there was any limit to how big of a form could be made with frost magic. He'd never had the occasion to try.

Following that, their journey ahead was long and arduous. For Frolick, riding on Molly's back was quite comfortable. Her shaggy wool was snug and warm. But she continued to hold a grudge against Frost for the freeze gauze and refused to allow him to ride her. Frolick had several private conversations to try to change her mind, but she wouldn't budge. She was a very stubborn mammoth.

So Frost walked.

By the next day, he'd walked over fifteen miles. There were no significant encounters. Just increasingly snow-laden terrain, rivers, and coniferous forests. The bear meat was extremely handy. The brothers had no reason to worry about food for the foreseeable future with it in tow. The single dire bear provided enough food to last the entire season.

...

"Sorry about Molly," Frolick said over the warm campfire. Molly had her back turned to Frost and was flapping her tail, refusing to acknowledge his presence. Her eyes were closed as she ignored their conversation. Bear meat sizzled on their makeshift grill. Drops of grease occasionally landed on the fire, fanning the flames.

"The freeze gauze was over a day ago," Frostilicus said. His legs were sore from the difficult hike.

"You have to understand that animals are highly emotional creatures," Frolick said. "They operate on instinct. Molly's quite a special case too. She needs a lot of attention."

"I healed her," Frost said, throwing up his arms.

"She doesn't know that," Frolick said. "She thinks you froze her wound after she was already in a lot of pain. Very upsetting for a mammoth. They are noble creatures, you know, and she is a queen."

"Then tell her that I healed her," Frost said. "You're an Animal Speaker. She would likely be dead right now if I hadn't."

"I tried," Frolick said. "But explaining the importance of cauterizing a wound to a mammoth isn't easy."

Frost's lips formed a line, and he shook his head. This was getting to be very annoying.

"Well, for what it's worth," Frolick said, pulling out the leather map. "We're not that far off. Should only be another week or so."

"Huh?" Frost said, ire in his voice. A week wasn't long if you were riding. Next time he would bring his own pack animal. "How far?"

"Maybe another week's walk to Hailstone Keep," Frolick said. "Though the cartography on this drawing isn't exactly scientific, so who knows for sure. Could be two."

Frost shook his head as he sighed. No good deed goes unpunished, he thought to himself. What could he do? If only he had a horse. Or even a mule. They weren't so complicated. Not like mammoths. Maybe they'd run into a trader who would sell them one. Not that they had a lot of money. He wondered if there were any villages nearby. "Let me take a look at that," Frost said.

The ancient map flapped in Frolick's hands as he handed it to his brother, who examined it carefully. It held together remarkably well over the years. The map had to be at least 60 years old by Frost's guess. It wasn't detailed enough to highlight small villages, but it did have a large marker for Hailstone Keep, their destination.

"They say that Hailstone Keep has some of the great wonders of the world," Frostilicus said, still glaring at the map.

"I reckon it'll be quite the place," Frolick said. "I've heard that it's supposed to have ice sculptures that are so realistic people mistake them for the real thing."

Frost somehow doubted that. Ice could be finely carved, but how could anyone mistake it for the real thing? The temperature would be off for one thing. And the color.

But it was supposed to be a grand place if the stories were true anyway. It was so far away and across such difficult terrain that the only people who bothered to make the trek were a little crazy. As such, the stories that made their way down to Capscatia were always suspicious. Most people assumed that travelers inflated the place's legend to build up social cachet.

Still, the stories were fun to hear. Frost said, "I've heard they have ice that looks like stained glass. It makes pictures glow in prismatic light."

"I've heard that one too," Frolick said, with wide eyes. "But get this—I've heard they have figured out a way to make ice that you can eat by mixing it with cream and sugar."

"What in the Five?" Frolick said. His brother's claims were getting to be more and more dubious. "That one can't possibly be true."

"I heard that one from a trader who'd been up there recently, I did," Frolick said, licking his lips. "Said there was nothing he'd tasted in his life quite so good."

Frost had always wanted to visit the capital of Frosthaven, but it wasn't exactly close to home. Aside from the arduous trek, there wasn't much in the way of trade. Frosthaven had little in terms of exportable resources. Why would it? Frost mages could make things out of ice. But ice melted after a few hours in warm temperature.

"Think the meat's done," Frolick said, lifting his shish kebab of skewered bear. It was medium-rare and grilled to perfection. Frost did likewise, examining his meal and nodding in agreement. The smell wafted through his nostrils and making his belly growl.

The two bowed their heads, whispering a prayer of thanksgiving. Then they bit into their food.

Frost's mouth salivated as he tasted the juicy morsel. His taste buds lit up in delight as he chewed, the food sliding smoothly down the back of his throat. "Pass the milk, please," Frost said, pointing toward the bucket of raw mammoth milk at Frolick's side.

Frolick passed it over, checking first to see that Molly wasn't looking. She was asleep, though her snoring had not yet picked up.

Frost lifted the bucket to his mouth and sipped. Five, that was good. All that walking left him famished and parched. Mammoth milk was rich in nutrients, too. He wouldn't be short on any needed vitamins during this trip.

"Can't say it gets much better than this," Frolick said, salivating as he stared at his kebab. "Out in the woods enjoying a great meal. I could live out here, I could."

Then he plopped the morsel into his mouth and smiled.