Sascha couldn't deny the feeling of vindication that sprouted from Voscil's obvious discomfort. That was the real victory: being in the right.

At least, that was what he'd have to settle for, as the physical prize was being tucked into someone's costume-inappropriate tote bag. Sascha stuck his tongue out at the individual's back.

Voscil, true to form, was already a step ahead. She'd snagged a keychain off of the rack. The act of buying some of the jostled merchandise seemed to placate the vendor slightly. Sascha glanced back at the rack, shrugged, and grabbed a hemotyped thermal hull magnet. He reached forward and dropped his beetles on the counter without bothering to wait for Voscil to get out of his way. "Probably a more prudent use of beetles," Sascha commented, eyeing his souvenir. If he had to guess, it was shaped like a little spell book. It would look kind of cute holding up a grocery list, he relented secretly. He pocketed the magnet and walked back out into the aisle between stalls.

"Well I guess we're even, this time." Sascha shifted his weight, looking a little lost. He realized he didn't have a script for interacting with Voscil that wasn't competition based. What did normal trolls do?


leon_a_darkangel