Raste

Raste of the Summer Court has a face that is so bright that it almost hurts to look at him. His face looks entirely white at first, and shining brightly. As one's eyes adjust, one is able to make out his features.

His face is white and smooth, gleaming and sparkling with warm, golden light, like the hard, icy crust of sun-baked summer snow. A mane of thick, rime-encrusted hair adorns his head, and a full, mustached beard of icicles hangs down off his cheeks and chin. He is wearing a pesk, a reindeer coat that hangs down almost to his knees, and reindeer boots with the fur turned inward. An axe and a knife hang in his belt, and he carries a beautifully crafted horn-and-wood bow slung across his shoulder.

As he steps farther into the room, the thick odor of food and drink, mixed with the smell of the crowd and animals outside, begin to fade, overtaken by the smell of crisp mountain air. He radiates warmth, but it's the deceptive warmth of summer in the mountains, where the sun warms the skin but not the snow, and winter's chill still lingers in the shade.