#gckotails

Honestly? He was curious what books they allowed on the shelves? There was a whole era of banned and burned books stripped from school shelves, some merely for changing a ‘common’ mentality, others for sparking free thinking and imagination in fantasy. Well, Harry Potter was a comforting sight. Clearly they weren’t all savages in Arcadia.

Hm. .... What did they have in sense of mythical legends and folklore? Don’t mind him, he’s reading spines looking for the juicy gossip on unicorns. 

Draal had been on patrol from the moment the sun had set, slinking about the suburbs on the lookout for any monster out of place that he could pummel. It was true, he’d been wholly embraced back into Trollmarket already, but his sense of loyalty ever drew him to the surface.

He was the Trollhunter’s protector, and that meant patrols, it meant keeping an eye on the boy’s mother when he was off at school or on a mission to a nearby settlement. It was a sworn duty that Draal held with his own sense of pride, and did what he could to keep Jim safe.

Which is why he was mildly surprised at the sound of a frustrated shout as he wandered the woods looking for rogue goblins, and then surprised once more as an all too familiar blue light crossed his line of sight, landing just ahead of him in the dirt.

The amulet.

And, as if acknowledging that he’d seen it. It quickly rose and zipped back the way it came, which came with the sound of a thud and a pained, annoyed grunt in the distance.

Draal just sighed, making his way towards it. He was a protector to Jim, but he was also a friend.

“What bothers you this night, Trollhunte-” he started to say, pushing through the brush, but his words were cut short as he saw not James Lake Junior, but a completely different human.

And it had the amulet in its fleshy hands.

Draal glared, and stood to his full height. A thief! A thief he’d missed. He’d fix that mistake.

‘Bugs are pretty decent, if you can get around the fact they have multiple legs and eyes.’

Oh, there's some neat stuff in here, Hope thinks, looking through the contents of the bag she's found. There's standard stuff like pens and pencils and books, and more uncommon items like a whetstone and...was that mineral oil? Not sure. What draws her attention though, her whole reason for poking her head in here, is some kind of pack of fish snacks. She carefully grabs hold of plastic packaging and starts to tug at it when-

'Hey!'

With a muffled squawk Hope pulls her head out of the bag, the snack sailing through the air to land on the grass a few feet away. She's half expecting something to be thrown at her, and into the bushes she darts. Like a flame in darkness though, vibrant orange feathers make her stand out against green foliage even while trying to hide. Maybe if it were autumn she'd have some chance of camouflaging herself. It isn't autumn though, so the thought is quickly pushed aside as she gazes out to find out who had shouted.

Oh no.

It's Alex! What is she supposed to do now? The older girl doesn't know about any of her abilities. What'll she think if she finds out that this bird trying to take her snacks is actually the kid she's befriended. Hope doesn't want that to happen yet. But what to do now?

"Because you are!" Hope chirps in response. "Just look at what you can do!"

From her place in the seat just next to Geck, the little mage beams up at the older girl. She stands briefly, reaching over to point at the page in front of the changeling. Like a wizard with spell and wand, Geck was bringing life to a creature with a pencil on paper. Fine details were still emerging, but if Hope had to hazard a guess, she would say that... Wait. She's almost sure she knows what's being drawn, or rather who is being drawn. There are distinctly shaped horns, a spiked hide of crystal, and that prosthetic. There's no one else that it can be!

"Yeah they do!" The teen insisted with a nod.

Why was she turning away? Did she not want people knowing about her eyes? Or was she maybe self conscious? Hope leaned to one side, so that she could see the strangers face more clearly. She looked nice!

A stench. Like his children, mixed with that of magic. Fury and cowardice? No, it was wrong! And it would be made right.

So she followed. And followed. Until a clearing, and flank of tan, presented itself. Slowly settling upon a nearby stone feet were nigh a whisper as arrow was nocked and string drawn. Focusing down the sights the woman drew in a breath to steady aim - and let loose when tapered ears twitched. [gckotails]

@gckotails

Bular lies in wait. He's been stationed in his spot for several hours, somewhere he knows the deer come through on their way between foraging and water. He is a famously impatient troll, but for this one task, his patience is endless. It has to be.

If it isn't, he doesn't eat.

It has been nearly a year since he has claimed this territory as his own. Unlike most trolls, however, Bular does not mark his borders. He knows where they are, down to the inch, but he doesn't hang bones or claw the trees or stack stones as markers. It's better if no one knows for certain where he lives.

So it's really no wonder the young changeling has stumbled into his lands. It's public land, by human law, part of the Angeles National Park only a few miles north of Arcadia. But the area has been marked as bear territory due to the number of attacks and disappearances, and humans rarely wander there.

A doe ventures closer, using a well-trodden path in the dense forest. She pauses, looking at the unfamiliar stone nearby; wet nose twitches softly, scenting the air, but she smells nothing but rock. And so she continues, with a twitch of her ear.

Bular leaps with a snarl, snatching his quarry by the haunch. Confusion falls over his face as the mule deer fails to struggle as they all do; instead, it falls limply to the ground, hanging from his grasp. Bright, glowing ember eyes lock onto the feathers of the protruding arrow, which skewers the thing through both lungs, ensuring it suffered a swift death.