I wrote up this nice thing about omgitsafox (aka Steph) but Blogger ate it, so all I have left are my tears and the tattered remains of what was once a perfectly good brain.
Who am I kidding, it wasn't really all that great in the first place.
Anyway, Miz Steph always seems to be busy with something. (I totally do not giggle when she is sewing corsets for the drama club and tweets about boning. I am way too mature for that.) She writes, draws, paints, and sews, among other things, and she's pretty good at all of 'em.
She also likes trolls. I have to like people who like trolls, if for no other reason than that; trolls are savage and xenophobic, but they are also blue and have face tusks with which to shank bitches, automatically making them better than kittens or chocolate cake.
Word count: 522
Nusuth rolled the stone around in his hands. He was bored. At his age it was the only thing he could be. He could fix that, but he simply had not the initiative.
He spent most of his days walking: across the desert, through the jungle, around the mountains. Never over - he liked to keep his feet on the ground.
He rolled the stone around in his hands once more. A voice within was awoken and cried out, "Ey, mon, some of us be tryin' to sleep!"
Nusuth stopped rolling it and held it still. The swirling colors of the topaz stone stopped moving and returned to a dark, dormant color.
A shout was heard from below his perch on the roof of a building along the port of Booty Bay, and he looked between his knees to get a better view. The charm wrapped round one tusk jingled with the movement.
A goblin merchant was squaring off against another, perhaps regarding money, as they often squared off about. One was pushed backwards by the other, and his small, booted foot landed neatly on the tail of a red lynx behind him. She had been napping in the sunlight on the edge of the dock, a paw or two dangling above the water, a bucket of fish next to her head but not enticing enough to warrant a snack. With her space invaded and her tail stepped on, she quickly whipped her head toward the offender and snarled loudly. The goblin jumped back with a squeak while the other nervously scurried inside one of the buildings, seeing a chance to escape with his bank account intact. His luck was short-lived, his absence was noticed and he was chased after. The lynx narrowed her eyes and flicked her tail in annoyance, then returned her head to the top of her paws.
Nusuth tapped a finger against his cheek as he watched the scene below, short in its duration, and when all was said and done he noticed that he had been smiling. He pocketed the topaz stone, hopped down from his perch, and walked across the boardwalk to the end of the dock. A fuzzy red ear twitched an the lynx turned her head and regarded with curious eyes the troll that was standing behind her.
"Daughter of Halazzi," Nusuth greeted in Orcish, "I approach you wit reverence and sadness in me heart. Dem goblins be insultin' you. I can bring you dere hearts if fish aren't appeasin' you." He gestured to the bucket of fish next to the lynx with a grin.
The lynx made short hissing sounds--was she laughing?--and pushed herself up into a sitting position. Nusuth crouched fown next to the cat. She seemed to speak with her eyes, and he listened.
It was like this that Kestil--Sentinel, Daughter of Nighthaven--found her companion Myrra with a strange troll. She gave the two an incredulous look, eyebrow raised, arms crossed. Nusuth looked up at the night elf and into her glaring eyes.
He wasn't bored anymore. He laughed to himself and said, "Now dis be interestin'."