You feel in a strangely contemplative mood tonight. Maybe it’s the Alternian moons looking especially bright, or maybe it’s the streets being emptier than usual. Most trolls are at home, watching the finale of the hottest rom com TV show, “My Matesprit is in Spades with my Moirail who's flushing for my Kismesis?!” but you think you’ll catch up on it tomorrow.

You're walking down the streets with your head in the clouds, when you spot a figure ducking away in an alleyway through your blurry vision coming back into focus. As you get closer, you realize it's a young troll, with an unusual gray sign on his sweater and nubby horns peeking out from his messy hair.

“Shit, I’m definitely gonna miss it, fuck my life-” As he sees you, he freezes before starting to throw insults at you, in a loud and high-pitched voice. You never thought someone could come up with this many original insults, but you will admit fault. However, all his screeching can’t hide his nervous body language. He's trying very hard to protect all exposed areas of his body, turtling his head inside his big sweater especially.

"Fucking shit! What do you want!? Don’t you have a hive to go back to, instead of staring at strangers like some creep with brain damage?" He screams. “No, I definitely do, I just-” You try to respond and engage in two-way communication, but he seems to have other plans. “Then get out of here before I-” He stops dead in his tracks, flinching as his hand scrapes on the brick wall of the alleyway in his flaying. It doesn’t look like anything a band-aid can’t fix, but he’s looking at it as if it was a one-way ticket to a subjugglator’s cold, friendly neck massage.

Upon further examination, you can definitely understand why. His blood is red. And not rust, like the lowest caste. A much brighter shade, unheard of amongst trolls. He’s so cullbait, and you can see the panic in his eyes when he realizes you’ve noticed too.