"That’s a decaying troll corpse, thank you.” He corrected with a pompous tone, exaggerating his false offended response. “And trolls don’t moult! We shed hair sometimes, but we don’t moult! That’s what birds do!”
A rotten-toothed smirk pushed at his diseased skin as he looked up at the towering figure, a glint of playful mischievousness in his eyes. “I smell like decay because I am decay.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, afterward holding it up to show the lanky one the clump of mangled hair and gunk that easily tore off with the action. “It never stops.”
Only a short, winced grunt creaked from the troll as the strip of flesh was ripped off, his body twitching slightly and eye stiffly closing from the sudden sting. Thanks to the years of living with this curse he had developed an incredible tolerance to pain, but even with such the tearing of nervous endings did still hurt.
The cursed one could barely get a word in as the tall one spoke, his odd curiosity throwing Trundle off severely. Never before had he met someone so forceful with their curiosity - especially in regard to his curse. He found it somewhat endearing, to his surprise, and even a little exciting, feeling almost eager to answer the strange man’s questions. As soon as he said the word “King,” however, Trundle’s brow dropped flat and he pouted.
"I’m not, that, Trundle!" His gravely voice barked as his posture straightened slightly to move closer to the other’s hunched eye level. "Are you guys blind or something!? I have a dead eye and I can see the differences!” Granted, the eye was only dead sometimes (such as now), but that was not the point. He was getting tired of people mistaking him for someone so vastly different from him.
Trundle let out a grunted huff as he dropped back down to his comfortable stance, frowning up at the other. Though his face showed that offense was taken, his voice was much calmer than his previous snap. “And that’s just a troll thing! We heal fast - real fast - compared to other things.” As he gestured to himself with a thumb, another layer of skin slumped and unpeeled itself from his arm halfway. The troll glanced at the hanging skin, feeling the blood drip down his arm from the new wound, and casually peeled the rest off as he continued. “This, though? This is a curse.” A small, somewhat empty chuckle brought a smirk back to his face. “This isn’t a troll thing.”
The burst of voice of the Troll made his iron hair produce a crystalline noise as they flew behind him softly for a second. He wasn’t showing his incomprehension, but it was here. He was confused and disturbed. Since Alice wasn’t seeing normally, he was just considering everybody by their spirit, by their essence. So the Troll in front of him was just the King he knew, but in a different form. Nevertheless, he swallowed his lack of understanding and decided not to answer his rethorical question.
When the ‘troll thing’ was mentionned, Alice looked dubiously at Trundle.
A troll thing ?
I understand the thing, but not the troll.
Maybe there is more than two troll kins !
He raised a finger very slowly, wanting to ask him, but dropped it hastily.
He will find it rude for sure, since he speaks about it as if it was obvious.
Without moving his head, the black dots in his blood eyes moved to look at the shred of skin that was hanging off his arm not-so-gracefully. The sound of Trundle, pulling what was left of skin made Alice raised an eyebrow out of disgust at first, then of surprise, and finally of curiosity.
"A curse you say ? What is the curse, if not troll ?"
He asked, knotting his hands before him. Noticing the leprous rag that was on the the floor, he stretched an arm to pick it up, looking, interested, at it, and hid it in his suit.