"Also we no live without breathing. If troll drown or strangled, he no survive. Also also..." The old troll's

"Also we no live without breathing. If troll drown or strangled, he no survive. Also also..." The old troll's voice goes quiet, and he leans toward you and hunches down. "Ghosts of dead. They no make wounds, just touch you and take your life. You survive, you become weak and sick. Some just fall and die, no scratch on their bodies. But they get ice cold, and their fur turn gray."