A/N We trolls don't get no love.

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The rogue and the paladin were taking advantage of the short break to upend their boots (the paladin's with a loud metallic clang) and remove the accumulation of small pebbles. Lew flicked her tongue up one pearly tusk and snorted. "Elves," she said in disgust.

There was a quiet rumble of laughter nearby, and she slanted a glance at the party's druid healer. "They can't help the way they are, friend."

"I disagree," she retorted, but without too much heat. The dark brown taruen smiled at her benevolently and returned to her juice. Lew noted that Brighteye's fine, strong hooves were as unaffected by the rocks as her own broad feet. Squishies, she thought at the elves. If they heard the thought (and one never knew, with elves) they ignored it.

Meek nudged her side and looked at her with limpid brown eyes. The troll sighed heavily and fed her pet another morsel of fish. "You don't complain about your feet, do ya? And you have such great soft paws." Her bear finished the fish and rested his bloody muzzle on her leg with a tired sigh. "You were very brave, taking down those raptors. ...but don't think that means I've forgiven you for always refusing to jump when I do, mon. It's very irritating." The druid's chuckle nearby told her that yes, the scolding sounded as half-hearted as it felt. Lew scowled slightly and rested her chin on her purple hand.

The elves stood up, the paladin hefting his weapon over his shoulders. (Tiny little things, elves. Made a normal person afraid they might accidentally step on one.) "Are we prepared to take on our foe?" He asked solemnly.

"Glory to the Sin'dorei!" The rogue answered with customary elven melodrama. Brighteye didn't respond, but rose with a dignified grace that always seemed so peculiar in a species that resembled nothing so much as a bipedal draft animal.

Lew rubbed the sharpening stone against her ax blade one more time and stood, tugging her rough leather jerkin into place. She growled softly. "Next time, we are grouping with orcs," she told Meek peevishly. In response, he rubbed his drooly face against her knee.

"I knew I should have become a fisherman," she announced to the nearly-empty cavern, but it didn't reply.

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A/N What you t'ink? Leave reviews. And stay away from the voodoo.