Killing is...gross. There really isn't any other way to put it, really. It's a horrible thing for anyone to ever want to do, even worse for someone who doesn't want to do it. Klaus had just finished enduring another one of those unfortunate episodes that some monsters experience fairly regularly. His hands were clean and it had been a few hours, but regardless, it still leaves him pretty shaken up on the inside. He's been living here for a while now, but the whole hunting issue has never been even remotely easy - he isn't sure what's more unsettling, the fact that a former protector of the populace back home was now killing people on a pretty routine basis, or the fact that there was a part of him that relished it.
However, another more welcome part of Klaus's killing routine is taking a long walk. Alone, usually as far away from the scene of the crime as he can pull himself. Tonight's destination is the cemetery, which is one spot that Klaus finds oddly comforting in this new reality of his. The headstones embody a reverence that he himself frequently feels after the deed is done - these are humans...people with families. Spouses and children, perhaps, friends, enemies. These people were respected after their deaths. Properly mourned. It's hard to put into words, but graveyards have an odd, serene energy to them, and on a clear night like this, it's the best place for a man to clear his head and get away for a while.
So here he is - a frankly enormous troll, obviously tired, wandering aimlessly among the stones, occasionally stopping to read the engravings or pay respects. It still feels like there's a swarm of bees buzzing about inside his skull, but at least out here it's fairly quiet.
Crunch.
His ears prick, and he pauses, staring out over the solemn field.
Crunch.
There it is again. Whatever "it" is. He's noticed at this point that he's not alone, and that this probably isn't just some animal that's wandered in. Curiosity gets the better of him; he makes his way between the graves, approaching the source of the sound - which appears to be a pale figure, hunched in front of one specific grave. Klaus doesn't have to get too close to notice the stones on this stranger's backside. Another troll. He clears his throat, the sound decidedly a little more raspy than normal, before stepping a little closer.
GEN 9? I guess. Troll Fight
However, another more welcome part of Klaus's killing routine is taking a long walk. Alone, usually as far away from the scene of the crime as he can pull himself. Tonight's destination is the cemetery, which is one spot that Klaus finds oddly comforting in this new reality of his. The headstones embody a reverence that he himself frequently feels after the deed is done - these are humans...people with families. Spouses and children, perhaps, friends, enemies. These people were respected after their deaths. Properly mourned. It's hard to put into words, but graveyards have an odd, serene energy to them, and on a clear night like this, it's the best place for a man to clear his head and get away for a while.
So here he is - a frankly enormous troll, obviously tired, wandering aimlessly among the stones, occasionally stopping to read the engravings or pay respects. It still feels like there's a swarm of bees buzzing about inside his skull, but at least out here it's fairly quiet.
Crunch.
His ears prick, and he pauses, staring out over the solemn field.
Crunch.
There it is again. Whatever "it" is. He's noticed at this point that he's not alone, and that this probably isn't just some animal that's wandered in. Curiosity gets the better of him; he makes his way between the graves, approaching the source of the sound - which appears to be a pale figure, hunched in front of one specific grave. Klaus doesn't have to get too close to notice the stones on this stranger's backside. Another troll. He clears his throat, the sound decidedly a little more raspy than normal, before stepping a little closer.
"Excuse my nosiness, but....what are you doing?"