Part 4
Jökul whirled through the air, a soft mutter of distaste on his lips. He hated to see his people acting so contemptible- their culture was an old one, and yet they resorted to such horrible acts as raiding this little island. It wasn't their fault of course, and as such, Jack did as he was told. But as the smoke billowed from the beaches, trying to drive them away from the ice, he could only laugh. That would only work for so long before they managed to get to the village and actually pillage. The Vikings just didn't seem to get that he and his Jotun brothers were only there for their food and supplies. If lives were shed, they didn't care (well except for Jökul of course, but he was a free spirit anyways) because they believed that as Frost Giants they outranked them in the importance of life.
He swooped lower, scanning through the trees. No one he could see. Just another dull, routine search. He was supposed to be looking for stray Vikings to see if there were scouts but so far he had caught sight of none. Not a single soul appeared to be surveying the scenes, which was odd, but who was he to question the inner workings of the Viking mindset? His pace was thus leisurely as flurries of snow drifted behind him. About half an hour in, he heard a whizzing noise and scanned his surroundings, shocked to see something lengthy- rope?!- careening his way. He gasped, trying to deflect it with is crook but it only seemed to entangle him worse, the large rocks tied to the end looping around him wildly in the air. He twisted and made to free himself, but could not keep himself straight enough to prevent more entangling. Struggling and thrashing, the Frost Giant yelped and was struck forcibly in the head with one of the rocks, quickly losing his balance in the air and tumbling down, down, down, the icy glaciers below him which gave way to a crevice dug into its cold depths. He struggled to break free of the restraints, but his arms were bent and tangled, his legs wrapped up tight and he gasped, sputtering a curse as he could not control his decent!
Panic was filling his mind- someone had fired this at him! A Viking had somehow seen him and had thrown this contraption at him in the hopes that he would fall! He huffed and tried to call out but the other Jotun could not hear them from their current locations. His voice carried on the wind and disappeared before it could reach his companion's ears. The rope was digging into his skin as he thrashed about, and it tightened around his neck. Choking, he could see the world coming closer by the second, his heart beating fast in his ears and his eyes wide. By Odin, he was surely going to die!
With a pained cry of agony, his head collided with the ice and he barely had enough time to register himself hitting the ground after harsh icy scraping, before he slumped in a heap. His head was spinning, his ears ringing. He could feel something warm against the ice- it was his blood! He whimpered, trying in vain to struggle some more and praying his darkening vision would not take him into unconsciousness. If he was trapped here too long, the other Jotun would think him dead- and he was terrified of being left here! What if he died out here all entangled and alone?! Or worse! What if a Viking found him! He would surely be killed or worse! He dared not think about that, but as he gasped for breath and felt himself sinking, he could not help but drift into unconsciousness with those thoughts at the forefront of his mind.
Darkness took him….. It swam through his vision and mind like a wave crashing upon the shore. He could register nothing as he waded in the pool of darkness for what seemed like an eternity…