Storms come without a warning. Watching how its thick whiteness engulfs the entirety of landscape visible from his vantage point Yul is uncertain whether he should count the sudden punishing weather as a curse or a blessing. All it did, from the point he could judge, was to bring everything to a standstill. Their armies on the lookout or amassing provisions to withstand a siege, their people leaving their village homes to seek protection of the stronghold and even the enemies across the river, trying to cross that huge nature made obstacle in their path over to reach their side; the storm put everything on hold.
From where he stands at a higher elevation on the wall of Kangs he could see the effort it takes for the guardsmen to turn the wheels of the gates, to open the draw bridge and admit the latest party of half frozen villages into the Kang's keep. There is a flavor of war in the air, in the faces he could make out in their day to day actions.
