#baronyofthesilverwolf

Bluebell scolds Ivan! "no! Hush! Out! Out, foul beast!"

"What's that, love?"

"A hunter disturbs mine rest! It's jaws slaver for my flesh." Bluebell says, plaintively.

"Oh, alright." Julius ushers her back to her room, and shakes a stern finger at Ivan. The annoyed Satyr just barely bothered to hold a pillow in front of his midsection. "You're not supposed to be inside, are you? Shoo, or I'll tell Marigold on you."

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Meanwhile...

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"Hello." A curious tone. "What are you doing?" The voice is male, and deep, and unfamiliar to Gladiola.

Ivan keeps barking and whines a bit.

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And Gladiola? "Just a little pity party"

She .. is vaguely aware of a voice outside

Outside her party

The Pity Party Nervousa is more of a scene and setting than an animal or mineral, to enchanted eyes, cake replishines, middling cake at best but cake... and tea refilling. A patch of green that seems almost picknicky and gray at the same time. A cloud of gloom traps the troll

"It looks as though you are practicing eating. But it feels as though you are going to slumber. Do you not wish to slumber at this time, friend?"

"mm?" A drifting look "Just ... feeling sorry for myself" More tea ... or in this case drinking motions

"Mmm." A crackling noise, not dissimilar to when Gladiola moves and her rocky skin grates against itself. "I mislike this. Perhaps I am being hasty, but..."

Moving into her view... it looks like a statue, albeit one that has become a bit weather worn. Bits of vine and moss have grown upon the statue, which is actually... a little taller than Gwen herself, if she was standing.

He reaches down and attempts to physically lift the troll in his arms, away from the tea and cakes and gloom.

She is HEAVY, and...stone like herself to some degree, but he is strong and with effort, he starts to pull

He is strong. He is very strong. If he senses any resistance, he will also stomp on the gloom.

"But my party" Gwen protests even as being pulled up seems to start to clear her

She is now being held in smooth marble arms, which somehow move, an animated statue?

THen she blinks as.. the statue , the good looking statue comes more into view "I..who are you?"

He considers her. "There are those who have called me... David. Is that name acceptable?"

"It's... lovely" She blushes, then "Holy snot, what ..what was I doing a moment ago?"

"You were being lured into a slumber not of your choosing." His voice is smooth and pleasant, but with a depth and richness to it that somehow evokes marble.

"You're ... wait, I've felt glamour like this before, Ms. Dru"

His forehead crinkles a bit, causing a bit of the moss to slough off. "You are not a Glome." He says, even as he takes long strides away from the party site. His... David's... voice sounds surprised.

"No, she is a Kubera and.. oh me?" She bluehses as she's still in his arms, "I'm a troll"

He slows to a stop, and carefully sets her on her feet. "But you are clad in stone like one of the Heavy People. You are not soft, and frail." He takes one of her hands, examining it between his own two made of smooth marble, which is cool but not cold to the touch.

She blushes as she's set on her feet and her hand is taken "It's a ..blessing of sorts, I g uess. it protects me and... " BLUSH again as it kind of tingles "David, I'm not frail"

"Um can i have my hand back for a moment? I need to see to something" A petty look at the Pity Party nervousa

He releases it. "Does that bother you? I will crush it." Indeed, where his feet stepped, there are deep indentations in the soil.

A part of her perks up even more "Okay you... thank you, I appreciate that but I'd rather crush it myself. It wronged me and i'm feeling vengeful" Then a thought "EDo you.. uh.. would you like to JOIN me in the crushing?"

He smiles, a bit of dust shaking free from his lips as he does so. It looks as though he may not have moved much in a long time, judging by the amount of moss and vinery and other signs of weather wear on him. "I would like that.... " Pausing. "I do not know how you are called, Friend Stone."

"Oh, how rude of me" She says "Dame Gladiola, mortals know me as GWEN I'm of Silverwolf"

((QUEEN!))

"Dame Gladiola of Silverwolf." He says the name slowly, tasting it. "I prefer that to Gwen, if I may. That is a pleasant enough sound, but it is over practically as soon as it starts. My people call me- " He gives a sound that is like the slow crush of rocks against each other. "But the meat folk I have met have not been able to say it properly. If I were to say it fully, it would take days of your time. Would you like for me to do so?" Offering, politely.

"Else, David is enough, short though it may be."

"I am not sure my tongue is steady enough to say your proper name correctly so David it is, but i would love to hear a part of it at another time" SHe says "Now, shall we smash together?"

(Later, she will realize just WHAT She said, or maybe she won't)

He smiles, showing marble teeth behind his marble lips. "Yes. It is a thing that should not be, and it will be a goodness to smash it."

"It WILL" The troll says, and puts her foot in cake. She is NOT pitable, she is a gosh darn Daireann a freaking member of the house of VENGEANCE

He watches and follows her lead, shattering a teapot that is not really a teapot under one stone foot.

The nervousa is NOT meant for violence, and tries to ooze away... but it is slow, and the teapot breaking releases it's p recious stolen glamour

The cake pops more ...whether it lead to death or not, it has definitely fed on others before thi

this*

David does not, it seems, move fast by nature, but he is very thorough. SMASH. SMASH. SMASH. Grinding every trace of the Nervosa he can see under heavy feet.

She whoops, "Take that you sniveling joy sucker. You made me drink TEA! I like "STAMP STAMP "COFFEE"

The Nervousa is stomped, stamped, crushed and finally destoryed under the feet of giants

Gwen grins "David, you were amazing!"

"You were also amazing. What is "tea"? It offends you. Shall we find more to destroy?" He asks, unwittingly starting a feud with Sluagh the world over. Luckily, he is within Varich territory, which may be his saving grace.

"No tea is normally a matter of taste, " She admits "And my mom likes it. "

He settles back. "Then no feud must be declared upon it this day." He stretches, looking upward. Some vines fall over his eyes, and these he brushes back out of his face as he gazes at the sky. "I have slumbered long. These trees I know. They were not so tall when I last visited."

"You are in what mortals call the year 2024 AD. It is settled by many now"

He seems unconcerned with the number of years, though he reaches out to touch one of the trunks. "I am glad to see you have grown, little oak."

To Gladiola, "Some of mine who are older see plants as menaces, with roots and tendrils that dig into a break rock. I choose not to see it as such. One may as well declare war on water for eroding a stream bed. It is but one form of change. I am glad that this place has not changed much, though. I am glad there are not paved roads and dead crushed stone where there was once boulders and trees."

"I like plants too," She says "They and rocks seem to add beauty together"