bad decisions make for great stories

Life had been uncharacteristically quiet as he approached his twilight years. The cold was welcome after his time in Auster, and his thick coat grew in just as plush as it had in his youth as winter approached. However, the cosmic titan didn't have quite as much energy to engage in the mischief that he'd wrought in his earlier years. Instead, he spent much of his time crafting, gathering herbs, and hunting. Returning to his insular, introverted nature. For the time being, he was preparing to weather what would likely be the first storm of winter. A nasty one, it seemed. The season hadn't yet changed, but the winds were picking up around the mountains. Howling over the cave entrance like the hounds of war. With meat stashed in cairns in higher caves, and wood set aside for a fire when the nights grew too frigid, he was all but ready. The dark didn't frighten him, and the crypt was home to animals far too small to pose a threat.

It was as he was stoking the coals that he caught the sounds of muttering. Someone complaining about the bitter cold, by the sound of things. The giant didn't bother to stifle his snickering, even as the quiet, barely audible voice was quiet again. Not his problem, as long as they kept to themselves. Ivory marked paws adjusted the furs that he'd scattered about his little hideaway, spreading out the thick wool of a sheep atop the thick pelt of a mountain goat he'd managed to take down before the autumn had gotten too cold.

"Careful not to stray too close to the entrance, you'll freeze to death in your sleep." deep baritone vocals rumbled, though he hardly raised his voice. Sound carried remarkably well in these tunnels, and he was certain the stranger would hear him.