On an outcropping of rocks the tiny female Jotun child was left, By the wife of a murdered warrior whose confidence was bereft, With no husband, nor family, she found it impossible to cope, She had no property, or wealth, which left her devoid of all hope.
Despite the weakness of the Jotun star the child began to pale, When the infant felt the oppressive warmth it soon began to wail, As the day slowly dragged on the Jotun child appeared to be lost, It was saved only when the darkness closed in and covered it in frost.
The baby stared up at the starlit night not understanding its own fear, With shrieks and screams it sought attention from anyone who'd hear, When no one came forth to comfort it, or stifle its lonesome cries, The child, now exhausted, became quiet and slowly closed its eyes.
The abandoned Giant child woke up late in the Jotunheim night, Above it, dancing high in the air, was a cold and magical sight, Huge flakes fluttered down upon it, some circled as they flew, A chill ran up the infant's spine, turning it back to a healthy blue.
Despite the little Jotun child being unable to utter a single word, From the north and south, east and west, its plea had been heard, While Kari joined Frosti to help make the cold north winds blow, Snaer's children, Fonn and Drifa, made for the child a bed of snow.