Kristoff always had a soft spot for animals.
When he saw the wretched creature limping dazedly, he couldn't help but scoop the poor thing up and take it home with him.
It didn't react to anything very much that first day. It didn't even bat a whisker when Sven licked its face or when Kristoff bandaged its paw.
Since his grandmother had passed away the previous fall, it was just him and Sven at the cottage he called home. Even then, Sven technically didn't count seeing as he was a reindeer.
If Sven were to count, then so did the duck and her six ducklings, the cow called Shelley, the owl that slept in the chimney and stole Kristoff's toast in the morning when he wasn't watching, and his grandmother's old dog Penny, who continued to sleep at the foot of his grandmother's bed.
If you counted all the animals then Kristoff wasn't alone, and most of the time he didn't feel alone, but some nights he felt unaccountably melancholy.
On those frosty evenings he would play his lute and sing the lullabies his grandmother had taught him at the top of his lungs to ward off the cravings for human companionship.
It was his singing that seemed to snap the dog out its stupor. It was medium sized, with a shiny russet coloured coat and big green eyes.
It walked over clumsily, stared him straight in the eye and let out a short sharp bark. It looked so surprized at the sound that came out of its mouth that it fell back on its haunches.
Kristoff stopped playing and leaned forward.
"What's up little guy? You feeling better?"
The dog stood up again and let out a series of the strangest barks Kristoff had ever heard in his life.
He found himself glancing at Sven, who went on chewing his carrot, and blinked drowsily as if to say 'Don't expect me to translate.'
Kristoff reached out to give it a pat on the head but it backed away so hastily that it collided with Sven's leg and ended up and ended up sprawled on the ground.
Kristoff shrugged and decided to take the dog back to Arendelle on Monday when he delivered his weekly quota of ice; maybe he belonged to a family and had gotten lost. Even if that wasn't the case, he was striking looking dog so it probably wouldn't be hard to find him a new home.
He delivered straight to the palace. The queen had a thing for ice; something Kristoff could identify with.
For as long as he could remember it used to be his grandfather who delivered straight to the palace, and carved ice sculptures for the then princess.
When his grandfather fell ill, the duty had fallen to him. It was something of a trade-family secret: where to find the best ice, and how to make the unyielding substance not only bend to your will, but transform into transient works of art.
His Mondays were spent carving and chiselling away ice into whatever took his fancy. Sometimes Princess Anna would join him and put in a request for something in particular, (she once had him sculpt the Duke of Weaseltown and the finished product had made her laugh so hard that she'd nearly choked), and very rarely the Queen herself would make a request, (she once had him sculpt a giant snowman for Anna's birthday.)
Kristoff loved his job. He loved ice, he loved carving, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he had a huge crush on Princess Anna, and loved when she made requests of him.
When Monday morning dawned, he rose with the sun and loaded up his cart to go out with Sven to harvest the clearest ice he could find on the mountain.
He took the dog with him so he could head straight into town afterwards.
When he arrived, he nodded to each of the guards flanking the perpetually open palace gates.
They waved him through with a smile. Arendelle was a small place, everyone knew everyone.
With Sven's help he loaded his huge block of ice into the large trolley, and pushed it with practiced ease into the palace. The dog followed his footsteps wearily.
Kristoff had a rotating roster. There were seven galleries in the palace where his sculptures were displayed; this week it was the royal portrait gallery that was to house his latest creation.
Princess Anna was waiting for him, and sprang up with energy from a sofa when he arrived.
"Hey Kristoff! Can you make me a bust of a man wearing Northern Isle garb and some ice daggers I can throw at it?" Kristoff chuckled.
"Is that an official request?"
"Yes! I need to let off some steam. Let me tell you-" she animatedly described in detail the coronation ceremony and the ball that was held afterwards, doing in Kristoff's opinion a very amusing impression of the youngest prince of the Southern Isles.
"Who's this handsome guy?" asked Anna, crouching low to pet the dog on the head.
"I found him on the night of your sister's coronation, wandering down by the docks. I was going to try and find a family for him."
The dog didn't seem to appreciate her efforts and barked at her like he was affronted.
Princess Anna sat with her legs folded under her beside the dog and continued petting him.
"So you did come to the celebration! Why didn't I see you? Everybody was invited."
Kristoff positioned his ice in the middle of the room and took out his array of chisels and picks.
"I'm not once for dancing or parties," he replied gruffly, dusting off his favourite chisel.
"You should have at least come and said hello! Besides, if you'd seen Prince Hans, then you could make an accurate likeness of his face for me to throw daggers at. Now I have to settle for a generalized Southern Isles Prince."
The dog growled from Anna lap and let out a series of short sharp barks.
"Good boy! Those Southern Isles Princes are so pretentious aren't they," said Anna, throwing her arms around the dog's neck and cuddling him to her chest. It let out a small whine and licked her face. Anna giggled.
"How about I keep him Kristoff?" asked Anna, turning her best puppy dog eyes on him.
"Umm, are you sure your sister would approve?"
"Kristoff, it's a pet. Not like its marriage or something." Kristoff signed. It wasn't like he could deny her anything anyway.
"I wasn't sure if he already had a family though..."
"Well how about I keep him until the real owners come forward? Besides, unless you find them today, you're way less likely to run into them than I am. You live up on the mountain in the middle of nowhere."
"I hardly live on the mountain. I live at the foot of the mountain…" he grumbled without much heat.
"Please?" Kristoff sighed; she was doing the puppy dog eye thing. He could never resist those eyes.
"Fine."
"Yes!" Anna fist pumped, "Does he have a name yet?"
"No. You get to name him too."
The rest of the time they spent thinking of suitable names for the royal puppy.
When he finished the sculpture of the bust, complete with five ice daggers, Anna was still tossing up between Olaf and Andy.
She took a break from decision making to hurl the ice daggers at the bust. Her aim was very poor.
"I'll ask Elsa what she thinks I should call him, although I'm leaning towards Olaf. Thanks for today Kristoff. See you later!" she scampered from the room with the puppy cradled in her arms.
Kristoff would only freely admit it within the confines of his own mind; he was desperately jealous of that puppy.
On his ride home he thought at about Anna, her exuberance, how pretty she was, how kind she was, and he wished she were anyone but a princess. If she wasn't a princess he might actually have a chance with her.
He didn't know it then, but that day ice sculpting with Anna was the last normal day either of them would have for a while.