I didn't understand why he took offense. He was the son of a Celadon whore. A troll knows these things, just as he knows which bridges have the best billy goats.I shrugged.I wouldn't pass on his message because this troll didn't have friends.
I withdrew the meager supply of olives with which the man had swindled me. The temptation to gorge upon the paltry offering, looking very much like apple seeds on my large palm, was offset by the knowledge of greater rewards.I set an olive down on the ground and crouched near a mossy boulder, my horrid countenance and the filthy rags more for the sensibilities of others than any real protection from the elements camouflaged me perfectly.
After a moment, a crow descended. Quick as flash I had it in my hands. I tied it to a bent sapling and waited once more. When the fox came, I trussed it up. I love me a good bobcat flank for dinner.
I waited, salivating, and put all the eggs in the basket in my mind.