Chapter Twelve

A skipping stone gathers some moss

Tug felt as though his regeneration was going very well. He had shoulders and arms now. When the stone walked too slowly, he could help it lope along at a good pace.
It also allowed him to grab some more substantial meals; he had acquired a taste for groundhog (very juicy). Once, when the stone was drinking at a stream, he was able to nab a fish. He thought might it be a trout, but he had to admit that he really had no idea. That did not lessen the pleasure he got from the meal.
He also gave his stone a name. He thought of a few before he settled on one he liked. They went as follows: Rocky, Pebbles, Big Stone, Little Stone, Sally, he thought one afternoon that his stone was a female but it ultimately didn’t feel right, Captain Granite, Flatain (Flat Mountain) and Mr. Slow. Which was the one he felt best about.
Troll poetry is mostly about smashing things, killing things, and then eating them. It is felt, outside of Troll society, that their poetry is interminable and unpleasant. Tug certainly didn’t think so, as he composed a seemingly endless poem about what he would do to Sir Garfan when he had regrown his body and found him. If Mr. Slow had any opinions on this subject, he wisely kept them to himself.

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