Gripping the opening of the waterskin tight, preventing it from leaking, he shoved off his haunches, standing full upright as he grabbed Mora by the scruff of her neck before she could land the hit. His armor would have likely hurt her more then him anyways. The materials of his sleeve groaned and contorted as his muscles flexed under it, lifting the bound trolless clear off her feet. His piercing crimson eyes honed to slits.<i>"That, no be nice... Speak Zandali, pet. Any troll worth her grain knows it..."</i>He did not strike her, however, nor reprimant further. Instead, he set her down with a shockingly gentle arm, and used some of the water to clean off her bleeding knees. Requarking the waterskin, he set it aside and got some linin scraps out, and bandaged the minor wounds.<i>"Can no have you turning yourself before training, eh?"</i>his voice devoid of as much emotion as he could force out of it.<br/><br/>Then, he glanced to the elf, gauging her current state of fitful slumber... Reaching over, he grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, like one would a small cat, and rested her head on Mora's lap. This, he hoped, would help calm them both down, making them more manageable. The trolless couldn't well fight back, if she was not only bound, but also had the elf's head on her lap. Any sudden movements might awaken the girl, and the troll's scent would likely calm the bound Kel'dorei down, reducing her night terrors if only slightly...<i>"Hungry?"</i>He asked, turning back to Mora with a clay bowl in hand, and a ladel sized wooden spoon in hand, both filled with the stew he had been making for them.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>