From the introduction:
A harsh wind snapped Enfys’ cloak and threatened to sweep her off her feet. She spit the snow and ice from her mouth and pulled her hood farther down on her face. She’d rather have her own cloak blind her than the freezing winds.
Coming alone to find the Castle of Madness was perhaps the worst mistake she’d ever made. Still, Enfys strongly believed that trekking through knee-deep snow in search of this lost, frozen keep would be the ultimate test of survival. If she could survive here, she could survive anywhere.
Fierce howls pierced through the moaning gales like a knife. Enfys slipped her gloved hand down to her worn sword. Just tundra wolves, she told herself. Wolves only attacked the weak – they’d have to find another meal today.