I sway back and forth on his shoulder like a sack of rice, feeling dizzy and nauseated, with blood rushing to my head. We travel a while through the forest and walk uphill toward the peak of the mountain where the Snowfire Tribe is said to dwell.

It has also gotten a bit chilly from the rough winds the higher we go, but his body is warm, so I am not completely frozen. The fact that it is still summer also helps, as the temperatures have yet to plummet to dangerous lows.  

I continue to sway back and forth on his shoulder and struggle to keep my mouth shut, not uttering a word of protest. I am sure if I do or say anything to annoy him, he will drop me over the cliff of the narrow ridge he walks on. I can just envision it—the Troll grinning evilly while saying I am too heavy to hold and threatening to drop me.

The vision makes me shudder, so I bite my tongue with every step taken closer to the village. I yearn to be back home to my grandpa, safe from the horrors of the night.

Why did I ever try to get the wheel? I'm so stupid.

I know we have arrived at his village because of all the huts I see. They are scattered along the edge of the mountain but hidden when seen from a distance. It is different than what I expected. I'm not sure what I was imagining…but not this. It is a little like my village, just a little, from some aspects.

I see many curious eyes peering at me, Troll women, men, and even some children.

Their women are equally frightful as them, just a tad smaller in height and lacking the defined muscles on their bones; nonetheless, compared to the human women, they're giants. Their children are also larger than our own, but cute, dare I say, with tusks of varying sizes, as if they have yet to grow into them. 

I have yet to see an elder in this village.

As we go around in a spiral and get to the top of the mountain, most of the village can be seen with their huts and fires lit outside them and a central throne made of bones.

The seat is currently empty, but I believe this is where their chieftain would sit, overlooking his people and the lands as the moon hangs high in the skies, with the twenty-four hours of night we have now.

It is then I see some of the ‘cute’ children sword-fighting around a fire with what resembles human bones, and I can only shiver more, realizing the truth. These children will just become monsters who will eat us humans when they finish growing up. In the end, there really is no such thing as ‘cute’ when it comes to any Night Dweller child. 

The Troll, who is carrying me, then stops in front of a hut made of straw and wood where the entrance is covered by deerskin. He pushes the flap back, and we move inside the dark dwelling. My mouth goes dry, and my heart pounds in fright all the more.

I am then shifted from his shoulder and thrown onto a bed—a bed which he probably has built since the carving along the wooden frame seems unique. Such a bed, I’m sure, is not available for sale from a merchant like my grandfather. 

The carving is rather an exceptional design with great attention paid to minute details. I’m sure my grandfather would be interested in such craftsmanship, even though this Troll is a Night Dweller. My grandpa is an odd man like that, often called strange by villagers, but he loves to talk shop with everyone, so to speak. 

The bedding consists of sheep’s wool, furs from rabbits, wolves, and who knows what else he has killed and skinned. Probably the ones that dwell in these parts and have been killed by him in the night.

His red eyes glow in the dark, one more than the other, and they narrow upon my figure as I sit on the bed. I push myself up until my back hits the wall.

What is he planning?

He gives me one warning. "Stay, lassie.” Then he turns around, showing me his back, as he moves outside. Not sure what is he doing out there, but I don’t dare to get up from the bed to investigate, and neither do I run.  

I am currently deep into Snowfire territory, and the Trolls are everywhere I look. Escape is currently impossible right now. My only chance is when the sun comes back, but that isn't due to happen for many, many hours. Would I even live that long? Should I take a chance at fleeing?

I go to move my leg, but I am too scared to, as I think back to the other Trolls I saw. They were all glaring at me as he walked through his village with me slung over his shoulder. They didn't say anything to him, perhaps respecting him to a certain degree. Maybe that is why I am safe currently when he isn't here.

I wet my lips. He's come back sooner than I thought he would. In his hand is a candle resting inside a metal holder, that he sets on a small table, another thing seemingly built by him.

"I was on watch before you came along. Now I had to have someone else take my place for the night," he informs me as he sits down in a chair with a white throw over it. I wonder what creature that came from.

"Watch...? Watch for what?" I question him, wrapping my arms around my legs as I wearily stare at him, unsure of his intentions at this point.

It is night...it is their time to thrive. What was he on watch for?

"Other Trolls, for one, like those chieftains you encountered. We are not on friendly terms with them and have been warring against each other for quite a long time. It wasn't too long ago, about a hundred years or so, when they chased our tribe up this very mountain trapping us, and only now do we have the power and strength to reclaim some of the lands below, though it is not much," he explains, his long silver hair sliding down his bare shoulder.

So, they were brutally fighting each other. Over what, though? Land?

And looking at this man, he also seems to have been involved in his fair share of battles. The eye on his right side shows the evidence of it, slightly duller than the left. Maybe caused by some fight, but definitely not caused by illness. 

"And the other things?" He’s only mentioned one thing, and that is the ongoing war with the Vonkill tribe. What were the other things he also watches for?

"Hunters," he replies, narrowing his eyes at me.  "You humans love to attack the weaker tribes first, but unfortunately for you, they have me. I have been gifted with strength and the art of battle, seeing that I have won many. And each time we have someone cross our paths, I kill them."

Maybe we wouldn't attack them if they didn't eat us.

I want to say this, but I am afraid it will invoke violent tendencies in him when right now he is calm. And I like this shade of calm on him. 

I also think of my mother and father, who were simply traveling through Troll lands when they were attacked. I wonder if he had any involvement, seeing that he has just said he kills anyone who crosses onto Snowfire land.

"So does this mean you will be killing me?" I only ask this because he did say ‘anyone.’

He chuckles. "I'm not sure what to do with you yet. You haven't tried running from me, attacking me, or anything else. You certainly aren't a hunter. I guess your waistline should have told me that from the start." He eyes me as if expecting something, but I don’t know what. 

"You Night Dwellers seem to love attacking my weight, more than anything else about me so far. That is if you don't count a Skeller wanting my bones." I find sarcasm flowing out of me, the deeper our conversation gets.

"You know what they are? And you had a run-in with one?" he asks, his brows lifting in surprise.

"Yes, the twins from the Vonkill tribe killed her, and I had only just recently learned of them," I mutter, not once taking my eyes off him, a feeling of unease still squeezing my heart. 

"Interesting." He laughs, leaning back, as he rests his elbows on the arms of the chair. "They like collecting bones, and we too always leave offerings of bones at the entrance of their caves, unlike the Trolls from the Vonkill tribe. A gesture of goodwill. It is our hope that by doing this, they won’t attack us. But you mentioned the Skeller was female. She could have been only after your bones, seeing that they are larger and wanting to give them to her partner or even her children to make a home with." 

That is another weight joke! It sure seems so since he has just said my bones are big. I’m not sure if he is being factual or mocking. He is rude and abrupt, certainly no prince. At this point, I am quite used to the slander cast upon me by the people in my village. Yet, I don’t like hearing it from him.

I sigh. Maybe I can reason with him about my leaving. He hasn't hurt me yet, and he has also said he wasn't sure what to do with me. Maybe he can think about letting me go? 

"If you're unsure of what to do with me...can't you let me go?" I ask him slowly and cautiously.

He grows quiet, and this makes my stomach twist with nerves. "Lassie, I thought our conversation was going well, but now you speak of running away from me, of your desire to leave. You're quite rude, aren't you?"

"That isn't what I meant." I swallow as he gets up from his chair and walks toward me, forcing me to shift my body to the other side of the bed.

I am just terrified of you and your people because they're eating and killing humans regularly, and I just want to go home. But I can only think these words, not say them out loud to him.

"I think I understand. You dislike me, don't you?" he asks, leaning down toward me and making me jerk back. My heart, which had just begun to calm down, now starts beating faster. "You're afraid of me. I can see the look in your eye, just like a tiny bunny when they see the glint of my knife, their big dark eyes reflecting off the silver." 

A little too descriptive, isn’t he? 

He reaches out, and I automatically flinch. He doesn't cause me pain, but he runs his hand down a single braid before he pulls the tie off, and it falls on the bed.  

"See, just like a rabbit, except sometimes they bite, and they bite hard. I guess I was lucky you're not of the aggressive nature." He is closer, and his finger pulls down the collar of my dress, and it is then he pops open its buttons. The first one, then the second, and a third. "And another thing I don't understand about you humans—you dress in far too many clothes, even when it is hot. Why is that?"

"I don't know...perhaps modesty." My eyes remain focused on the corner of the room instead of on him.

We're not savages like you Trolls are.

He laughs harder, then pulls away. “I think I might just keep you around to make me laugh. So, you sweat and get all gross for some modesty? That sounds ridiculous."

I glare at him, seeing that he wants to keep me around as a joke. 

His laughter dies down, and he smushes the flame from the candle after he wets his fingers making everything darker inside the hut. Then he returns to his chair, the creak is all I hear.

"I have found your purpose now. I've decided what to do with you." The only thing I can see is the glow of his eyes, and I don't need the light to know he is grinning at me. 

Listening to his statement, the darkness, and the eyes of the currently nameless Night Dweller, I can only think that I am a rabbit to him at this moment.

One minute I am a pet to keep around to laugh and play with, and the next, I will be staring at the end of his knife when he tires of me or when I lash out and bite him from being played with too much.

I wonder how soon it will be before I end up like the last rabbit. He, after all, did speak of another human woman. I'm sure her fate did not end well either. I just need to find a way to escape fast before it is too late.