A thousand years of neglect,
a thousand years of dark sorrow,
they cast off that past, to stand strong on the 'morrow.

Their bodies do glisten;
their princess does listen;
the Crystal Heart beats within, and within they connect.

But a foal is now missing,
poor little Heart Stone.
Her dam is distressed, she does wail and bemoan.

They must find that filly,
who's sure to be chilly.
But the wind is so cold; the ice is steaming and hissing.

The land is all frozen,
but the city is warm.
But that foal is not here; she's out in that storm.

Their guards are strong stallions.
They march in battalions.
By Shining Prince Armor, they were all chosen.

With thick winter coats,
and thick winter boots,
they galloped out there, in their desperate pursuits.

They used all their skills,
and searched in the hills,
but could not go higher; they were not mountain goats.

That little peach filly
was trapped in a cave.
As the cold clenched around her, this would soon be her grave.

She was stolen away
on this dreadful day
by the coldest of hearts: the Windigo Billy.

He owned that land there;
that ponies now claimed.
“They'll regret that trespass. They'll be sorry and shamed.”

But little Heart Stone
who was cold to the bone,
tried to plead for her life, she broke down into prayer.

“We don't wish to harm you.
Please carry me home.
On the rest of these mountains, you're free to roam.”

“Not a chance, my dear girl.
I've a plan to unfurl.
Your death will bring sorrow; their hearts will turn blue.

“Their powers will cease.
My cold will sweep in.
In this battle for land, I will trounce them and win.”

“You might make us cry,
but our love will not die.
Please take me back home; all we want is just peace.”

The ice Windigo laughed.
There's no warmth in his heart.
He looked out from his cave; he'd keep them apart.

The soldiers did fail.
They had to turn tail.
In this dark frigid night, they were ill understaffed.

The Windigo's blizzard
now tore through their town;
with hearts down from sorrow, everypony did frown.

Snow rained in the streets;
their warmth it depletes.
The wind cut to the bone; it howled and it scissored.

“See how they suffer.
My plan's going to work.”
“Y-You'll pay for this, you icy big jerk.”

Ice crept in the door.
It flowed on the floor.
The filly was doomed; it crept up her fur.

“Princess we've failed.
She'll die in the cold,”
the strong pony guard spoke of doom he'd foretold.

He hung low in shame.
He took all the blame.
The warmth of the room, now faded and paled.

The Princess of Love
did think on her feet.
“There is another chance; we must stay upbeat.

“If she's lost in the cold,
we must be so bold.
We'll let the warmth of our hearts, be felt from above.

“The ice will all melt;
she'll live through the night.
With luck and our hope, she will be alright.”

Crystal ponies did bow.
They honored her vow.
They held hope in their hearts, and its warmth they now felt.

In this terrible storm,
was a sight to behold,
for a powerful magic, began to unfold.

The heat from their hearts
rose up off the charts.
A bright burning flame began to take form.

The Windigo's weather
now faded away.
He gaped in pure shock; he knew not what to say.

His beautiful ice
had paid the full price.
All that was frozen, was now quite wetter.

“This must be a fluke.
They haven't yet won.
I will still prevail when all is said and done.”

Yet their plight touched him too.
He felt something new.
The warmth of their hope was a subtle rebuke.

He looked out at his land.
He looked at the filly.
“They did this for her,” said Windigo Billy.

“Why did I take her?”
His heart started to stir.
He hefted her up, but she could not stand.

It was too late now.
The ice had taken its toll.
Young little Heart Stone was a dying foal.

He's a spirit of ice.
His help won't suffice.
But he had enough hope to try anyhow.

A blast of cold air
rode in his wake.
He carried her home, for her fading life's sake.

The ponies were shocked,
but they gathered and flocked.
The old Windigo Billy laid the girl right there.

The young pony's dam
did gather her child.
“She's so cold and so still!” Fear made her eyes wild.

Their hope started to fade.
They were growing afraid.
The old Windigo's heart now fluttered and swam.

“There's yet one who can save her.
He's an old friendly goat,
with a chip on his shoulder and a fluffy warm coat.

“He lived here I'm told
in these mountains of old.
He must pour out his heart and his heart will transfer.”

“A foolish false hope,
there's no such thing here.
There is only me and I cannot endear.

“My body is ice.
I'm not at all nice.
To chill and to freeze is my emotional scope.”

“Yet you are now here.
You're more than you seem.
Hold her tightly and in your heart you'll redeem.”

Had the Princess gone mad?
He was evil and bad.
He grabbed the small child; his purpose unclear.

She couldn't still live
She was limp like a rag.
Oh what had he done? His heart started to sag.

He cried at his crime.
She was snuffed in her prime.
If she died in his arms, himself he'd never forgive.

His tears washed away
all the ice from his hide.
An ancient old warmth stirred up from inside.

His heart burned like a flare,
and warmed the small mare.
Her eyes peeked open. She was—she was okay!

“Oh mister, you saved me.”
She nuzlled his cheek.
“Oh my dear baby,” her dam did speak.

“But how did you know?
I was all ice and snow.
I wanted to smother all that I could see.”

“No pony can perish
In the mountains out here.
Thanks to Blue Winter Billy they haven't that fear.

You're an old friendly goat
with a blue fuzzy coat,
and in your great heart everypony does cherish.”