Author: Alma Heart
Warnings: Mention of disturbing deaths (I think, anyway...)
Book/Source: LotR Appendices
Disclaimer: All of Middle Earth is from the hand of JRR Tolkien. I own nothing. I make no profit from the drabble.
The Northlands were not kind.
Long seasons had passed, but their people remembered. His mother told him stories of wolves the size of bears, vicious and slavering, of snow that fell so long and cold the dying froze where they stood, pale corpses in the white drifts.
Starving, all of their strength insufficient to reach the frosted earth.
Desperation drew them together, his father said, and common need. Death hounded through winter storms all who dwelt in those frozen lands. And, in that frigid famine, life had come, and love.
When the king’s son scattered golden hay upon the snow, Snowmane nuzzled him in gratitude.
A/N: I do not know how far north the "Northmen" came from before descending to Rohan, but I presume they brought horses with them when they came. Pretend it was very cold, please? Snowmane's family's alliance with men happened later, I know, but this is a more primal memory.