"Ice fishers are tough, weathered souls–molded by years spent battling the frozen wilderness. Their hands are rough and scarred, the marks of countless days spent gripping freezing ropes, carving holes into thick ice, and pulling in stubborn catches. Their skin has a windburned look, cheeks reddened from constant exposure to frigid gusts, while their fur-lined coats and patched boots tell the story of someone who knows how to make do with what they have.
They are oftentimes silent, their sharp, steady gaze always scanning the ice and water for signs of life anytime they have the chance. There’s a calmness about them, a patience born from hours of sitting still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Their fishing spear rests easily in their grip, a tool as much a part of them as their own hands. Every movement they make seems deliberate, shaped by a life where wasting effort could mean the difference between survival and going hungry.
To the ice fisher, the cold isn’t a curse–it’s just the way life is."
- from the publisher's blurb