The troll sighed, head bowed, eyes staring to the depths of his soup bowl. "Aye, some'tin like dat..." Looking at him from the side, it was slightly easier to make out the way his face and skull were elongated in the fashion a male troll's should, though it was still 'stubby' by their standards, which made looking right at his face make him seem more feminine. A certain sort of gloom had fallen over the mage, as he ate and sipped his tea n silence. Unlike the truly powerful among his craft, the air did not bare any sort of humming power, implying he was likely either weak, or ill experienced... Given his younger then normal traveling troll apperance, it was likely the latter. Looking at his hip length hair, one had to wonder HOW he got that strange multi coloration! And the fine layer of blue fur implied he was likely of an arctic tribe, and it was well brushed, mostly... worked to a near glossy shine in fact. With another sigh, he dropped the spoon into the now empty bottom of the bowl, and gently pushed it away to make room for the teacup and pot, peeling dark gloves off to wrap his three digit hands about the pot and enjoy it's warmth...<br/><br/>"So, joo be a fightah, eh?" Glancing up at her a moment, seeming painfully, and dangerously oblivious to the rest of the room. But it's not like she was a rogue, right? Or so he had reasoned out to himself in his head. He had yet to meet a rogue, but was under the immortal impression they were ruthless, cruel, agressive or introverted sorts. Not people to casually spoke or enjoyed social drinks. Right?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>