If once there were a Winter

 It fell, no matter.  There was a spell where we could tell the sky was bout to break, and teh wind coming fron the northe had teh scent of salmon.  And fell they did, that's what be meant by silent furey.  Quiet, but the cold and teh wind bite with frozen tooths.

Gimme teh crackelin' wood, and bottl o Spirits I say! Warms the skin, and the heart, no matter what shape they be in...

Moab