Korsarro stomps his tiny duck-boots up the long muddy track to the Temple, far too cynical from making such a long journey with such a small body to take in the awe of the sight before him. He spits to his side and adjusts his duck-sash, his ears propping up as the sound of the alarm reaches him "Damned fools have stirred up trouble again it seems." He quickens his pace slightly, but finds that his tiny boots cannot gain the proper grip and slips, landing face first in the mud. He balls his hands into fists and picks himself up, looking down at the terrible mess of his body and grumbling as he trudges once more.