“The tracks end here.” The gruff voice of Brynhilde was heard, just a few yards ahead. The rough woman’s red hair was a sharp contrast to the wintry landscape all around them.
The other two Valkyrie, Dobrynia and Geirhold, trudged through the barren trees and loose snow to get to her. Due to the cold, they all wore furred clothing over their armor. They even gripped their weapons with gloved hands.
“It will snow again, soon.” The blonde Geirhold noted, as she stared up at the darkening, tumultuous sky.
“Small matter.” Brynhilded told her. “Let the snow come as it will. What say you, Dobrynia?”
The raven-haired woman stepped next to her mentor, taking in the sparse and lonely landscape. They’d traversed through a cold region already, in following those strange tracks that should not have been there. The creatures that made those tracks did not belong in that world, the world of men known as Midgard. Now, they’d reached the edge of living things, where the meager trees ended and the vast frozen tundra began.
“By Odin’s decree, we must go wherever the tracks will lead us.” Dobrynia said.
“Of course, of course.” Brynhilde stated, keeping her gaze on the empty land before them, and on the high mountains that could be seen in the far distance. “I fear this is the beginning of the end. This is the Great Filbumwinter of prophecy, which comes just before Ragnarok.”