[More low, cloggy honk-laughter which would put Gollum to shame before he throws the bow aside. He likes this idea. Then again, given what troll hands look like, he still has a very clear advantage even before you take into account the size of his adolescent hands and feet. Not for nothing does he look like a clown. The hands looks pretty nasty, with broken, scraggly, quite long and unkempt dried-yolk yellow fingernails.
He droops lie a neanderthal or a moment, hands hanging limp as the two voices in his head try to figure out what to do in a bout of fisticuffs.
He takes the bow to the skinny chest with a surprised honk which quickly turns into another low stream of under-breath laughing ones intermittent with choking-shouted ones. He twists like a contortionist, before latching one of his dinner-plate clawed hands around the back of Grace's hair, wrenching her off-balance.
The curls and waves catch interestingly on his nails, he notes dimly. It feels softer than troll hair, which always looks somehow oddly plastic and unreal, and he steps on her foot, hard before wrenching her backwards and down, honking all the while as she probably rains the proper kismetic blows on him.]
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timeasmymeasure
Marriage straitjackets. And the ceremonial gold-plated buckets. XD
Date: 2011-11-17 06:09 am (UTC)Then again, given what troll hands look like, he still has a very clear advantage even before you take into account the size of his adolescent hands and feet. Not for nothing does he look like a clown. The hands looks pretty nasty, with broken, scraggly, quite long and unkempt dried-yolk yellow fingernails.
He droops lie a neanderthal or a moment, hands hanging limp as the two voices in his head try to figure out what to do in a bout of fisticuffs.
He takes the bow to the skinny chest with a surprised honk which quickly turns into another low stream of under-breath laughing ones intermittent with choking-shouted ones. He twists like a contortionist, before latching one of his dinner-plate clawed hands around the back of Grace's hair, wrenching her off-balance.
The curls and waves catch interestingly on his nails, he notes dimly. It feels softer than troll hair, which always looks somehow oddly plastic and unreal, and he steps on her foot, hard before wrenching her backwards and down, honking all the while as she probably rains the proper kismetic blows on him.]