Legend and lore followed and adored by trolls and magic hordes.
To her annoyance, Grelor remained unnoticed each day. One hundred years passed since the last time human hands touched her. She waited for the sun to set this late afternoon because she planned to set the night on fire.
The frog resting on her hardened concrete day-self felt wet and cold. Grelor didn’t mind the company. A troll will tolerate, even enjoy, all things happening nearby in their statue phase. She loved being present and being invisible.
As the sun’s last beams faded behind the end of the world Grelor felt her exterior softening. Finger and toes cracking. Neck stretching and spine snapping then began her slow transmogrification.
Ten minutes passed. She stood still and radiant but once again animated.
Grelor shrieked and frightened all the creatures within earshot. The rumbling noise of the wheeled human vessels above drowned out her scream but a peregrine falcon heard.
