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It hardly ever snows in Dunwall - just ice and slush and wet slicking up the rooftops and gathering up in ugly little grey heaps alongside the streets - and it never snows in Karnaca, unless you count the silver dust.
Billie, shivering as she guides her new ship steadily north toward Tyvia, looks to the white sky above and wonders suddenly if it ever snowed in the Void, if any ever slipped in through the cracks in the world alongside the drifting, singing whales and frozen memories.
The boy who was once the Outsider stands on the deck nearby, stretching his arms out over the icy railing and catching snowflakes as they fall; the look of awe on his face tells her the answer is no.