"I figured paint was the best the motherfuckers got." The troll didn't seem too down from that little upset, but his religion was a rather important thing to him, and if anything could put him in a bad mood it was being denied the ability to do what little he did to follow that cult. At least the conversation from the chapel had started his day off right.
He shook his head at the question, tapping the paper with one of his crayons. "It ain't really troll society what's followin' clowns, sis." Speaking of the conversation from the chapel, as fascinating as it had been he wasn't sure he wanted to keep repeating it. "It's kind of an obscure follwin'. None of the others in our group all had the same motherfuckin' interest."
Which was a shame, seeing as he'd like them to be able to come along to the Dark Carnival as well.
Rose's own choice in craft distracted him, and he found himself watching the yarn become something else in her hands. How was she even doing that? Such a miracle that was. "Shit, those are some pretty wicked skills."
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He shook his head at the question, tapping the paper with one of his crayons. "It ain't really troll society what's followin' clowns, sis." Speaking of the conversation from the chapel, as fascinating as it had been he wasn't sure he wanted to keep repeating it. "It's kind of an obscure follwin'. None of the others in our group all had the same motherfuckin' interest."
Which was a shame, seeing as he'd like them to be able to come along to the Dark Carnival as well.
Rose's own choice in craft distracted him, and he found himself watching the yarn become something else in her hands. How was she even doing that? Such a miracle that was. "Shit, those are some pretty wicked skills."