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Crystal Giants
Deep tundra snow dips and bends around incoming blizzards. A sifting, blasting white hell that hammers down the unprepared. Stomping out of the ivory slop with giant crystal club swinging comes the blue being. A glittering, icicle beard blows down another bolt of frigid breath.
The small folk slowly frozen in their tracks. The giant runs up screeching and hooting, lining up his shot. He swings full power and powders the preserved prey. Red chunks fly in all directions as more of the giants descend keening and crying over the gale.
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