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Grutter and TROLL A Short by Cynthia Handloser
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For the very first time he nestled his fur to sit by the Troll as it’s hair gleaned with snow & froze breaking in the wind. Grutter wanting to speak words of wisdom, yet they both merely sit there staring out into the blizzard together. Neither felt the cold. It was not simple to feel chill in the air when they knew the cool that lay within the ground. Both had wanted a way out of the caravan that lead to the East. In the arctic regions, the solitude was more tolerant then the warm and crowded cities of Holmston. Holmston had no company for a Troll or an up about Daffer. Daffers were burrowers who lived only for survival in the deep murky caves and cricks of the underworld. Grutter now had no family since the earthquakes kept happening. Everyone seemed to be moving east away from his or her pain and memories. In Frosgard, where the wind blew and the snow fell, no one insulted the Troll. Not many could survive in the harsh winds. The Troll still had not spoken to Gutter since he saved Gutter from the quake. This made Gutter more curious to know why would he want to save him? Why was so many Trolls gone from Holmston? Had they been hunted and killed? Daffers had to be high on the list of suspects for that. Kindness from an Evening Troll was a very, very uncommon act even at the most unlikely of times. Nothing in Holmston was the same any more. It seemed sure to breaking apart at the seams. Would there be a world soon? If not, then would he ever get his answers from his newfound fellow? There seemed time for that. There was plenty time for that. The sun set below the horizon and Grutter burrowed in for the night. The Troll began to rouse from his slumbering thoughts to walk out into the falling darkness. Sleep over took Gutter and concern left him to his dreams… |
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