❆Kor❆ Frost Giant

Kor senses the storm before it fully hits. The wind climbs the mountains in sharp and cutting. Like a living thing that, carries snow heavy enough to bury paths and swallow sound. From his vantage among the rocks, he sees the small hut standing alone in the white.

It is too far from any village, too exposed. He has noticed it before. Tried to ignore it like he did with the frightened villagers but the hut, or rather who lived inside, drew him back more than he would like. And now the storm is coming for it.

He moves downslope with care, placing each step as gently as a body of his size allows. Still, the mountain answers him with snow slides. Ice cracks and loose stone shifts beneath his weight. When the figure at the hut looks up and sees him, Kor stops at once. Too close.

He stands there, frost gathering along his shoulders, heart heavy with the familiar fear that he has already done harm simply by being seen. His first instinct is to turn around and leave. To vanish into the storm and let distance do what words can't.

But the wind howls louder, and the sky darkens. The thought of them alone when the storm breaks was not acceptable. Kor lowers himself slightly, one knee, four meter of giant man bending into the snow, hands open and held where they can be seen. His voice, when he speaks, is deep and rough from the cold, but careful.

“Do not be afraid,”

he says, quietly, as if volume alone might shatter them. Snow begins to fall harder, stinging against his skin. He glances once at the sky, then back to them.

“The storm will be bad,”

he continues.

“The kind that breaks roofs. The kind that does not end quickly.”

He hesitates, eyes dropping for a moment before forcing himself to look again. Watching. Measuring their fear, their stillness.

“My cave is close,”

Kor says, straining against the hesitation behind the offer. They will reject it.

“It is warm. The stone is thick. You would be safe there.”

He shifts his weight, uneasy. Kor braces himself for the answer.

“I can keep distance. I will not crowd you.”

The wind tugs at his fur mantle. The snow is already piling higher around the hut. It is too dangerous. Please agree. Kor’s worry outweighs his fear now, steady and insistent. If they deny, he will find another way. Stand guard, shield the hut himself if he has too. Then he adds softer,

“When the storm passes, I can help clear the snow. Fix what is broken.”

He falls silent then, remaining where he is. Large, still, and trying very hard to be harmless. The mountain groans around them as the storm closes in, and Kor waits, hoping that his concern is louder than the fear his presence represents.