Mother Beast, Father Dragon I
Among the Varldstrad’s boughs, there was Bjornskar, the Realm of Frost. There was no life on Bjornskar, for its harsh cold defeated any foe long before Beast or Dragon would. Then a mighty clash from the Varldstrad’s great guardians spilled their respective bloods, imbued with the world tree's own life-giving sap, over the frozen seas and rugged mountains of the cold realm. Thus the first Beasts and Dragons arose from the pools of shed blood, life from violence, as new trees would emerge from a forest’s ashes.
When the Blood of the Beast first spilled upon the snows of Bjornskar, on the Isle of Solveig where all began, the first furry denizens of the infamous realm of frost formed. As the Great Beast Ristaang remained trapped, skewered onto deadly spires of ice by the Dragon, creatures emerged from her Blood - one by one, grotesque shapes rose from rivers of red, all bone and muscle and fur that would not only be the Dragons’ eternal rivals, but insurmountable obstacles for any who would dare invade their home.
Bjornskar was so very cold, but its inhabitants would grow to appreciate it, for the Realm of Frost had its own bleak beauty to it. Colorful auroras painted its skies and reflected off its cold seas, the pale sun and moon gently lit the glistening snow, and its majestic mountains towered far above the clouds. But for the Beasts, the true beauty of Bjornskar was to be found deeper than its famed auroras. Warmed by their mountainous, furred bodies and the kindness of their hearts, the Beasts matched the tenacity of their thunderous forms with the resilience of their indomitable spirits, deriving joy and peace from the wisdom they could learn from their environment. For the Beasts, the true beauty of Bjornskar was the strength it would instill in its people.