They ran like clockwork, thundering over the bridge as they had done for hundreds of years.
He cursed himself for losing track of the time.
It was hard enough hiding under the bridge, clinging to the rocks like scraggy moss.
Harder still when those thumping humans were shaking the old stones to their core.
Strange how those lumbering creatures considered him, a mere troll, to be the monster.
Stranger still how they weren't able to recognise their own appearance.
They seemed to think they were these medium sized pinkish things, it was almost pitiful.
Such large, hulking brutes reducing themselves to snivelling two-legged pig things.
Truly it made no sense - it was like they weren't able to comprehend themselves.
They never seemed to realise what they did, talking in faint voices about "tax" and "politics".
Like they even had a government, they just travelled around in shambling herds.
Even now they were above his home, faintly laughing about some world only they saw.
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