Fenris had returned almost immediately to the Goblin Mounds, feeling more comfortable amongst those who were easier to discern their true intentions... mostly from the fact they didn't quite possess the intelligence to really lie or deceive. There were exceptions of course, such as himself, but still...<br/><br/>He'd move through the halls of the mounds, most of them looking little more than roughly carved out tunnels. None of the walls were even smooth, claw marks seen at random locations, leaving little doubt as to how they were formed.  Few of the tunnels would be of the same height. A few he was just short enough to avoid the sharp marks of the ceiling from scraping his head... others jetted upwards dozens of feet above his head. There were even tunnels that came up no higher than his knee, all made for the different sized goblins to move through the mound. Of course, he could have them fixed... but to what point? The neatest point of the whole mound was his throne room and chambers... and that was sufficient. The appearance added to the whole mystique of the goblin mounds... or rather, perhaps the intimidation factor.<br/><br/>Through the randomly aligned corridors, torches lighting them at random intervals, illuminating the activities of mischievous goblins, the darkness at times hiding their activities, thought not their sounds... the king of the goblins would move, intending to perhaps go take another nap til something of importance happened. But along the way, he'd stop, seeing the goblin youth rushing up to him. At the mention of the princess, his lips would compress slightly, but arms would cross over his chest momentarily.<br/><br/>"And what information would that be Flare?"<br/><br/>Fenris tended to remember the names and faces of most the goblins... but he took more lengths to ensure such for the half-goblins... since they were more of his kind. And since they might pose the most possible threat to him, possessing more intelligence than most the common brew goblins.