[The wind and snow swirls, focussing on a point only a few feet in front of her; in only a matter of seconds the snow has gathered and Frost is standing there. He looks basically like a man, but made of ice, his body sharp-edged and face forbidding, his blue eyes narrowed.]

What right do you claim to make it your home?

[This time his voice issues from his mouth instead of the air, but when he speaks it comes with an arctic blast. Most humans, when they come this deep, seek only to claim the forest for their own.]