The snow came early and thick that year. The almanac had promised a mild season, but the weather was particularly harsh, almost in defiance of prediction.
When the storm broke, he went out hunting with the dogs. They would need extra supplies and get them through what promised to be a long and bitter winter.
He wondered at the strangeness of the weather as he climbed the ridge and saw the Frost Giants. They were gathered in the clearing, working a ritual beyond his ken. He supposed some things had a rational explanation after all as he leveled his rifle.

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