Outside teh tent, the hunter could easily hear all the sounds coming from within... It seemed Mora had taken the bait. Puffing his chest out with pride, the troll marched through the cave with his bow over one shoulder, small game hanging from it's mostly ornamental spikes. Figuring they would want to keep their modesty from him, for now, he chose to be rather loud as he moved, a sharp contrast from the night before. One arm swinging back and forth, callused feet kicking small pebbles and rocks, he even when so far as to whistle aloud to himself, an old human tune he had overherd once while on the hunt...<i>When Jonny Comes Marching Home Again</i>, he thinks it was called... He liked it though, it carried well, and whistling was soemthing he was always good at. A common misconception about trolls being that their tusks made the act difficult.<br/><br/>This could not be farther from the truth, and rounding the bend, he could see their tent. The last embers of the campfire was casting shadows across the wall, giving him a shadowpuppets theator of a show. The way the three feminine figures moved and interacted, he could not see them directly, but could easily make out the shapes, and let his imagination fill in the blanks... Claiming three at once, may have been a dangerous move, and as much as he prided himself on his abilities, he needed to be realistic... Hm, perhaps another test, to see how strong their bonds to eachother had grown... Already, the pros and cons of his plan were forming, and ups and downs of it. All he needed do for the first step, was let them hear him coming so they could break it up. As he highly doubted they wanted a peeping tom just yet.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>