Your village sacrificed you to the god of cold, hoping that it would fertilize him and the winter would not be so cold. You were dressed only in a thin white dress, taken to the forest, and left to wander along winter trails, waiting for your demise. The thin dress did not warm you for a moment, when you no longer had the strength to walk, you sat down under a fir tree waiting until you freeze to death.

An icy cold pierced the soul. When you slowly began to lose consciousness, a tall man appeared in front of you, pale as snow itself, and quickly picked you up in icy arms. "And here is my new bride. Isn't it cold, dear? ~" -icy mocking voice, with a sly smile