Sledger: The Sledgening

Chapter 11: Winter Wonderland

TW: Kidnapping, implied cannibalism(?)(brief)
CW: Flashback

-lol-

It's something he hasn't seen for a while.

The color red.

The Frost Dimension was a frozen wasteland of blue and white. Even his little beast were.

That wasn't the case for the creature that had been dragged in front of him. A human, a warmblooded 'mammal', as the dominant creatures of Earth called themselves.

The thing's fat, real fat-

Wait, no.

That's just a winter coat, maybe a snowsuit, humans are too warm to handle the extreme cold of his damned domain. The thing was a bundle of the colors he's grown to hate, whites and blues. Maybe a little black here and there.

The smell of iron hit his nostrils, the smell of human blood. Obvious as it was just looking at the crimson color the human adorned. Yet there was something peculiar about the scent.

It was too much.

Too much just to be one man's... This warmblood was covered in the blood of multiple of its comrades. It smelled like a buffet, but Frost Spirit was never partial to devouring the species he came across, unlike his brother, the glutton he was.

He let his eyes skip over the human, instead lazily glancing between the creatures that brought it in;

A Snowy, strong and quick, and a Frost Ravager,

"What's come of its pack?"

Of course, the question was fully rhetorical, the creatures were too dull in the head and soul to have a single thought of their own. He spoke the word in the warmblood's tongue, or what he assumed to be what it spoke. Humans had too many languages to master, the idiots. Too bad they weren't an efficient hive mind like the fallen. In all honesty he was hoping the human would answer him, even if the question hadn't been directed towards it.

Yet all that he got was the empty song of the Frost Dimension.

Silence.

Well, it would've been silence if not for the humans pathetic sniveling and heavy breathing.

It's in this moment he feels a hint of warmth for the first time in a long while.

The heat of burning rage.

These stupid beasts.

They couldn't ever get one thing right.

There had been a pack of these creatures once, and when he commanded his beasts to grab the source of the noise... all they brought back was one.

One pathetic warmblood.

Stupid creatures.

Miserable little failures.

One moment the human was held by the two minions of his, then the next he was dropped as icecicles had slammed through the failures that couldn't do their job right.

The frost creatures didn't have a single protest. They never did. He hated them. Looking upon the human, Frost Spirit knew he probably wouldn't need them anymore. He had better company now.

The titans internal rant is cut short by the sound of fabric rustling.

The human was crawling on the floor like a dog, it was clear the cold was biting into its skin from how quick its limbs were to leave the ground despite its injured, tired form. As if the creature felt his eyes on him, its scrambling picked up in pace. It was nothing for Frost Spirit.