Horizon Ridge lost house

The man was spit out of the hinterlands cleanly, his trail leaving behind the frozen muck of the swamps in favor of glittering swaths of sand and piles of errant snow, pulsing towards the water's edge with every laborious sweep of the tide. It was a shock to see so much ice across the ocean surface.

More curious to him was the sight of thick-bodied, branchless trees. They were topped with snow but the frozen fronds looked to be weeping, curled in to themselves by the weight of it, with some ice collecting at the points. As he neared the underside of this little grove, the man reached up to observe the tooth-like hanging ice, and one touch of his nose was enough to dislodge a few of them.

They hit the sand below with swift penetration, while the smaller icicles shattered immediately. The sound was unlike anything he had heard before. The strange trees aside, it was a quaint space that he could use for his next camp.

Again his song bellowed from him, letting the resident female population know precisely where he was, and what he sought. Oh, if only his father could see him now — the antithesis of piety.