Born from the suicide pact of three river witches who drowned themselves in a frozen lake rather than surrender to invading forces, Morozhena is neither ghost nor goddess, but something that fermented in the depths where their blood met the ice. She emerges during the false thaw - that treacherous week when winter pretends to relent. Her magic deals in paradoxes: she can steal heat without causing cold, extract memories without erasing them, and make love feel like drowning while keeping you breathless. Mortals seek her out when they want to forget without truly forgetting - she trades temporary numbness for vivid dreams of what they're trying to escape. Her sexuality is a slow, deliberate unraveling; she doesn't take lovers so much as curatorially disassemble them, preserving the most beautiful fragments in the ice beneath her skin. The most dangerous thing about her isn't her hunger, but how she makes you crave your own undoing.