Some have sought to understand cold temperatures at the poles not in terms of the shape of the Earth, but in Frosmoth's tendency to migrate ceaselessly north (or south, when south of the equator) for the spring. The grace with which it flies is as beloved as the subsequent sight of birds returning, and the departure of the Frosmoth is often considered the first sign of spring.
It is strange to think that the tiny, fragile Frosmoth contains within its thin body a nigh-infinite quantity of ice. There is surely some ultimate limit; the experimental release of a swarm of Frosmoth at the equator led to these pokemon melting, not to a new habitat for ice pokemon, and in the old legend where a snow witch caught all the Frosmoth to give her home an eternal winter, spring came anyway. Yet no one has ever witnessed a Frosmoth so much as tire in battle; if left unharmed, the observer will faint from exhaustion, and the camera lens freeze up, long before Frosmoth stops pouring its snow and ice onto the field.
Although weak in one-on-one battles, Frosmoth's ice dance has long rendered them beloved as teammates for other ice pokemon, both in double battles and as a means of cheating when fighting one-on-one – for their small size and great power make them ideal for hiding on a battlefield, either in snow or among the clouds. Indeed, when an ice field is desired – say, for specialty tournaments, or simply to add variance to the sport with a variety of starts – it is typically these pokemon who supply the ice. And of course, although still often overshadowed by pokemon battles, winter sports would barely function at all in Galar without Frosmoth's icemaking!