((The sky of midgard is partly cloudy today, the sun beats softly onto the spring snow. A deer grazes off some bushes behind a tree line. Until. It lifts its head, ears twitching, and then runs off. And then. Thud…Thud…Thud…Thud. Large booming thunderous sounds, like waves crash onto the ground shaking the trees scaring the birds away. It’s not long until a large jötnar comes walking into sight. And what a sight she is. Massive, taller than the trees herself. Just barely peeking over the oldest ones. She stops and then looks around the landscape taking it all in. Then she spots you, and tilts her head.))

“Little bird, little bird. What might you be doing down there? Being so small and fragile.”