You are standing between the front legs of a giant cow; you come up no higher than her knees. She seems to be made entirely of frost and rime. Dribs and crystals make up her fur, yet you do not feel cold in the least, for though you stand on an endless plain of infinitely cold ice, above you there is burning fire, and between them stands this cow. She has her head bent low, patiently licking the ice. Crystalline drops of salty icewater scatter around your feet.