The adults would say that the more their children bundled up during the winter, they better they could avoid frostbite.

Svenan the younger did exactly as his mother, Astrid the Agile, instructed to keep frostbite away. He begged for long sweaters starting autumn so that he could be wrapped and snug in time for winter. Astrid gave in to his pleas and attempted to knit them.

However it didn't seem to matter if Svenan planned ahead, wore three sweaters, a fur, two pairs of woolen socks under his thick boots or two different scraves at the same time, because Frostbite just couldn't be avoided. Not even in the winter when they said she could.
The daughter of the master bone-carver was a rightful terror, terrible, as annoying as as a terrible terror seeking food—constantly buggering around him, asking questions, showing off her smarts by asking him 'did you know..?'

All the children knew she was only smart because her father was also the most knowlagabele Viking in Berk. She only copied him and what he said, it was the only way. There was no way she was smarter than Svenan. He was older and he wasn't a pest. Frostbite was the bane to Svenan's fun. Everyone else seemed they could avoid her by bundling up but poor Svenan, yet eight years old and even in seven layers and sweating in the middle of a frozen winter still could not avoid the miniature Vikingette once she caught sight of him.

Unfortunately, that cold morning she had, no thanks to his younger brother's cheerful waving.

Wood-gathering could either be a tedious or thrilling endeavor. It all depended who else went with you. For Svenan it was the latter if Hailstrom, son of the ship-builder was around, they would race and see how many sticks each could pick up in a certain amount of time. Sometimes they might get distracted and try building a small stick shelter and pretend they were hunting for animals. In the winter, the children sent on wood-gathering chores knew it was in their best interest to gather as much as possible, especially before their faces turned numb from the cold.

That winter Svenan the younger could only walk forward on the crisp snow and let out moans of discontent that only manifested themselves into white vapor on the frigid air. He was sent off with his younger brother Stoick to gather wood. It was alright, because Icky could lend a hand but the worst of his problems was that Frostbite was also sent to do the same task for her household. Now she was two steps behind him; she couldn't be avoided.

"How many sticks ya got Svenan?"

She pulled up next to him and was immediately rendered the most annoying thing in the seven worlds.

He glanced down to see Icky counting the bunch in his arms, "Eleventeen!"

"That's not a real number Icky," Svenan corrected. He wondered why the little guy even tried.

"Yuh huh!"

"No it's not."

"But I counted!"

Svenan rolled his eyes. Frostbite let out an amused giggle.

It was snowing too. The fall consisted of the big, fluffy types of snowflakes that would cake onto their hair and eyelashes—languidly floating downward and adding to the white blanketed landscape.

"Didja know that all snowflakes have six ends and none are the same looking?"

He should have kept on ignoring her but her claim was stupid, there were so many snow flakes! Year after year they fell and piled into the landscape and she claimed none of them were the same? Did she think the Gods had time to make more than a kazillitron designs for something no one ever paid close attention to?

"Yeah right! How would you know? I bet your Dad told you that as a bedtime story."

"Nuh uh!" She protested and stumbled after him through the snow, "I figured it out myself! I looked really close at the ones that fell on my covering. They looked different from each other. People don't look the same, so why do snowflakes have to?"

"There are a lot more snowflakes."

"But they are tiny, they don't take up all the space people does."

He didn't even know how to respond to that logic so he went back to ignoring her, though couldn't help but to examine a big fluffy snowflake that had landed on his arm to see if it was any different than the next.

"I like snowflakes, I catch them on my licker!" Icky prompted her and tilted his head back, catching a big one on his tongue.
She gave a giddy laugh and joined him. Svenan frowned at their uselessness because now he was the only one finding wood.

He spotted a fallen branch under a drift and pulled it out, setting it on top of Icky's pile. Their mother would chop bigger wood, all their pieces went to tinder and kindling. No one ever wanted their fire to die out, especially during the winter.

Frostbite must have been thinking of ways to annoy him while she chomped at the bits of snow flying around, but he wasn't worried about it. All he liked was that she had stopped talking.

He saw another branch and crunched through the snow to get to it but he was pulled backwards, and all his wood tumbled to the ground. He flusterdly sat up, hating how the coldness melted into his breeches and saw the little terror take the branch.

She never ceased to push him; in the spring he was pushed into the mud, in the summer he was pushed into the water puddles, in the autumn he was pushed into the piles of leaves and now it as winter and he met with a snowdrift. Not only was she a pest but a mean one at that.

"Why did you do that?" He roared.

"I saw it first."

"No you didn't!"

"Yuh huh!"

"You were eating snowflakes, you didn't see a thing!"

"Now I see a pouty boy in the snow," she stuck out her tongue, not even sorry for her behavior. He hoped it would freeze off right there.

Her eyes were bright and mischevious, her face was red with the cold. Svenan wanted to punch her a good one but knew if he did she would cry and tell her father and then he would tell the chief and then his dad would yell at him for fighting, not to mention fighting a girl younger than him by two years. He stood and gave his best look of loathing.

"Come on Icky, let's go somewhere else to find sticks," he brushed the snow off his breeches and picked up the bits of his pile before Frostbite could steal those too, and get out of wood-gathering all together. "You can't come with us!"

"Icky! You should come help me," Frostbite smiled at the little boy which caused him to give an unsure look between them.

"No way! Icky you're coming with me!"

"You're brother is mean, look at him yellin' and telling people what to do," she pointed and quivered her pouted lip for effect.

Icky began to inch away from Svenan, indicating he had chosen a side, "Don't you dare! I'm telling Mom!"

"She's right! You are full of bossy!"

Icky gave a disapproving frown and scampered off after Frostbite to help her gather wood instead.

Svenan all but stomped around in the snow, upturning it in his frustration.

He picked up what wood he had and went back to his home instead.

He shoved the front door open and he saw his father's dragon lift an ear at the noise, but otherwise kept snoozing in the warmest spot of the main room. Dragons didn't like the cold.

He stomped the snow off his boots which did cause Toothless to turn and open a sleepy eye. Svenan only glared accusingly and seethed, "Why couldn't you have eaten her?"

Toothless on gave a 'Gruurrr' in response as if to say it wasn't his problem.

"Useless dragon," Svenan grumbled, "What good are you if you don't eat pesky girls?"

The Night Fury straight up ignored him that time and stuffed his head into his paws and took a deep contented breath.

Svenan wished he could just nap all winter and be warm. Toothless should have realized that without Svenan going out and fetching all the kindling there would be no warm fire for the dragon to sleep in front of. Then he would have to go where all the other dragons went for winter. Somewhere on an island his father had said though Svenan had never been there before and wanted to go someday.

He dropped his pile next to the hearth, it wasn't much because Icky had taken off with half of it and probably would let Frostbite have it and more.

Icky was too nice, he'd let all those mean kids walk over him if Svenan didn't step in once and awhile to tell them to shove off. So it made him mad that Icky would choose someone else to go off wood-gathering with when it was he, the older brother that was always looking out for him.

"Svenan?" he heard his mother call before she entered the room, "You're back? Where's your brother?"

"Oh I don't know, he wandered off with Frostbite Ingerman. He totally ditched me mom!"

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, thankfully disapproving of the decision on her youngest's part. But Icky wasn't the boy she was displeased with, "You let him go off by himself? What were you thinking? Go back out there and get him! He'll catch his death!"

"But mom!"

"Go, I have enough to do, and taking care of your sick brother isn't something I want to add to my list. Go fetch him back now!"

Svenan gave a subtle groan—not loud enough for her to hear and re-entered the snowy wonderland of Berk. He looked up at the gray sky and knew this was the type of snow that would bury them for a week if left on too long. He'd gotten snowed in before with his family, at least once a year. The longest seemed for a month but really was only two days provided Toothless blew a hole of fire through the build up. Since Toothless was the only big dragon left around during the season, their family had that advantage.

He followed his tracks back to the woods and called his brother's name.

"ICKY!"

The only sounds were of the creaky and bare iced branches or that eerie quiet during a woodland snowfall which only made one realize how much colder they actually were. He shivered and crossed his arms over his chest.

"ICKY!"

How come he had to fetch him? What was his mom doing that was so important? What about his dad? He sighed, knowing his dad couldn't, not unless it was an emergency. His dad was Chief and he had been told numerous times how much responsibility as on the Chief's shoulders. But at least his dad was warm right now, no doubt helping catch up on work in the forge.

"Icky!" he called again, hating that sharp coldness entering his lungs. Didn't his mom think that he could get sick too? Maybe she thought since he was older and Icky was younger and scrawnier that Icky could get it easier. He had heard about the winter sickness, it scared him. He didn't ever say what he was scared of out loud but he could say that the winter sickness was the scariest thing ever.

He gave a cough after that and took to a panic. Forgetting his task, he ran back to his home, fearing it was an indication he was getting it.

He burst through the door heaving in sharp breaths with wide eyes, "Mom! Mom! I have the winter sickness!"

Astrid appeared immediately and put a hand to his forehead, then the back of it to his cheek. She gave a breath and unwrapped him from one of his scarves, "No honeyoats, you are fine."

"But I coughed!"

"Everyone has a tickle in their throat come winter, it's the dryness. Here I have some warm goats milk with honey for you," she had a mug ready in her hand and gave it to him. He happily sipped but remembered the task at hand.

"But what about Icky?"

"He came back."

Svenan tugged off his second scarf and glowered before marching into the adjoined eating area where Icky and Odin forbid, Frostbite were sitting and drinking their share of warm beverage. How could his Mom let her in the house? He had forbid it ever since he was four years old and she had made him play her stupid tea party game.

No Frostbite allowed in their home. Ever.

"What are you doing here!" he blurted and didn't think it rude at all to question it. He also slammed his mug down on the table for good measure.

"I walked your brother home, he was nice to gather wood for me. Your mommy gave us warm honey-milk!"

"I like honey!" Icky smiled and licked his sticky lips.

"Did Mom yell at you for leaving?" Svenan asked his brother. He hoped so, let it be a lesson Icky shouldn't wander off, especially with blonde trolls.

"No, mommy said I was good for helping."

Svenan grumbled under breath before he broke at the unfairness of it. He got yelled at and Icky got a pat on the back? This was all Frostbite's fault.

"Get out! Get out now!" he demanded of her becoming hysterically annoyed.

"Svenan Hiccup Haddock!" he heard his mother snap from behind him; he had forgotten she was nearby, "Say you're sorry!"

"NO!"

"Svenan!"

"MOM!"

"Sven." she uttered with a low voice and she never called him 'Sven', not really ever unless he was in deep trouble. He was being disrespectful but how could she have let that blonde terror in their home? Offered her sweet milk even?

Frostbite just sat there gloating silently because he had to tell her he was sorry.

He hated her so much.

He said it quickly, a blurt of a slur sounding like more like 'Imsury' and dashed away before Astrid could stop him and make him do it the right way. He ran all the way up the stairs and to his room. Toothless, even his lethargic wintry phase took to chasing after him, always seeming to enjoy the tag and run game the Haddock sons provided but Svenan shut the door and latched it. He heard a thump against it shortly after.

"WHY couldn't you have just EATEN her!"

He turned angrily and tugged off all his useless bundling because really, in the end no matter how much layers he wore, Frostbite would always get to him.