Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When John Dory was 16 years old, he left BroZone. When he was 16 years old, he snapped, arguing with his brothers until he couldn’t take it anymore. He was 16 years old when he grabbed his backpack, packed with camping gear before he left the Troll tree in a huff. He was 16 years old, when he had abandoned his family.

It’d been years after that and day after day, it was just surviving for John Dory. 

Day after day, it was the same routine - wake up, eat, pack up camp, move, find a spot, eat, sleep, repeat - and everyday, John Dory was alone.

The argument still lives in his head rent-free without a doubt, always riddling him with guilt and self-hatred for how he acted that way. But John Dory wasn’t to blame for that. He’d tried so hard to make the band work. He wrote the songs, even when he couldn’t understand the words he had written. He helped them practice, even when it left him so sore to do anything else. He took care of all of the legalities that came with the band, even when it often meant staying up just to read the stupid terms and conditions. He did all of that hard work, but none of his brothers appreciated it.

So he’d walked out on them and safe to say, it wasn’t his proudest moment.

He felt like a coward, running away like that. John Dory was the eldest. He shouldn’t be running away. If anything, he should’ve acted like an adult and instead of running out the front door, he should’ve ran to his room instead. Instead, he should’ve comforted his brothers, he should’ve been there for him.

Now he’s ruined it and John Dory came to the conclusion that he was simply imperfect. It had to be the reason. Imperfect people couldn’t do anything right and it would seem that anything and everything John Dory tried to do, it didn’t come out right.

The teal troll trudges through the thick woods of the Neverglades, a couple of sticks tucked under his arm. He was collecting kindling for the fire tonight, getting ready for another night of being alone and lonely, all by his lonesome. But it was okay, because he was used to it.

It wasn’t like John Dory had any reason to not be used to being alone. Doing that for the past couple months… no, years? Taught him that much.

He arrives back to his camping spot, sitting down at a pit in the ground where he’d make his fire for the night. He sets down the sticks and rearranges them to make a pyramid like shape. It was boring work for sure, but anything to keep his mind and body occupied. He finishes it sooner than he expected and John Dory sighs, ears drooping slightly.

He was so bored, being alone did that to a troll. Especially a pop troll like John Dory himself. But, it’s not like he could complain. John Dory never really liked crowds, despite adoring the attention and bathing himself in their praises. Sure, he loved it back in his BroZone days when fans screamed his name and fawned over him. But for whatever reason, John Dory hated being surrounded and big fussy crowds were his nightmare. He remembers one time, when it was Trollstice, he’d been shoved into a pod that was tightly packed with other trolls and it was just so suffocating, he’d hated it.

John Dory remembers the feeling of panic all too well and ever since then, he hated going into a small room with a group of trolls. He’d either find a way to turn down the offer or find an excuse entirely. That’s why the Neverglades was a sanctuary to that fear. No troll would find him out here and he was alone. No big stuffy crowds to send him into a panic attack, and certainly no responsibility over his brothers’ shenanigans!

…John Dory looks down at his hands and sighs again, deeper this time.

How pathetic was he? To be willing to leave his family just to get away from the responsibility shoved into his arms. To be willing to drop his brothers in a snap just to get away from the pressure, the flashing lights, the crowds, their reputation, his reputation. He hated it. Hated how it made him feel. Hated how it made him feel so sick and so disgusted with himself.

He wonders briefly if they’d ever find his body if he just killed himself right now or if-

… What was that?

John Dory perks up, hearing something in the distance as his ears come to attention immediately. There was a sound, something akin to a scream or a yell of pain, but where was it coming from? More importantly, who was screaming?? John Dory was in the middle of nowhere, there was no form of civilization within a walking miles’ distance.

He strains his ears, convinced that maybe he was hallucinating. There was no way he’d heard someone yelling and if there was, then who in the world could it be?

A beat of silence. No sounds, no noises, nothing. John Dory is about to focus his attention back on his makeshift fire pit when he hears again - another scream, but this time louder. 

John Dory turns his head in the direction of the scream, eyes narrowing as if to decipher just where it came from. Another yell, but this time softer as if the person who was yelling was trying to keep quiet. John Dory feels himself stand up and move in the direction of the yelling. It gets louder as he nears it, so he moves faster.

John Dory runs, runs and runs until he arrives at the scene and-

“Ow!” a troll (was it a troll? John Dory didn’t know) winces, shifting on the grassy floor, near where a stream was right next to it. “Ah, fuck, this is not good…”

The troll looked to be a peculiar one, with vibrant blue skin, neon green hair that was tied in an updo with rainbow colours from his shoulders down to his wrists and a beating pink heart on his chest. But what was even weirder was the lack of legs the troll had - instead of legs, the troll had a fishtail.

John Dory blinks, hidden behind a tree so that the troll couldn’t see him. Was he hallucinating? Surely he was, because trolls didn’t have tails. Well, they did, but they didn’t have fishtails in replacement of legs, did they? Tails, to pop trolls, were an extra appendage. This troll didn’t have legs but a tail in place of them.

“Come on…” the troll grumbles, shifting his body to move. He was lying flat on his stomach, trying to pull himself up to sit, but cries out in pain when something tightens around his tail. “Fuck, fuck, that hurts SO much-”

Something was snagged around the troll’s tail, secured tightly around where the base of his fin was and coiled up halfway around said-tail. With every movement the troll tried to make, it ended up tightening whatever it was around the tail, sending shocks of pain to the troll.

John Dory sees this and his eyes narrow, trying to see what exactly was caught on the troll’s tail. It looked to be some sort of string, one that was used in fishing traps and if John Dory didn’t know any better, he’d think that this was his fishing trap spot and-

Wait. Hold on a second.

John Dory glances around, recognizing the familiar foliage that was around him in the scenery and his eyes widen as he sees this. This was John Dory’s fishing trap spot. And the troll was currently stuck in his trap. Oh fuck, this was not good. 

John Dory contemplates leaving, already preparing to run back to his camp and hide out. Number one rule of living in the mountains; don’t fuck around with things you don’t know. Unless you really wanted to find out.

And well, living alone for almost 7 years, there were enough instances for John Dory to learn that lesson a fair handful of times. And he certainly wasn’t going to do that right now. This wasn’t even a troll he recognized, so it obviously couldn’t be a pop troll like him. But if the troll wasn’t a pop troll, then what was he? John Dory did not want to find out.

Unconsciously, he finds himself taking a step back, raising his foot and he lowers it, careful to not step in anything to let the troll know that he wasn’t alone. John Dory repeats this process, just until he thinks he’s far away enough that he won’t be seen.

He steps on a stick and it cracks. John Dory curses under his breath when the troll perks and his head swivels in his direction.

‘Fuck,’ John Dory thinks to himself. Well he’s screwed.

The troll narrows his eyes in the direction of where he thought he heard a sound coming from. Something moves in the shadows and his eyes widen suddenly. 

“Is- Is anyone there?” he stutters, scared out of his wits as he was alone with no survival skills whatsoever. But at that moment, all he could really think about was the pain he was feeling in his tail and he knows he’s not going to be able to get out by himself. “I… could you help? I-I’m stuck and I can’t get my tail out.”

John Dory stays still, hoping and praying that the troll hadn’t seen him and maybe he could escape, break out into a run and get out of there. His nerves are on high alert now, his fur sticking up with that nervous tendency he did. It was like a prey going on defense mode when spotted by a predator. And in this case, John Dory felt like the prey.

So when the troll decided to glance away for a bit, perhaps mishearing the sound and choosing to glance around, John Dory takes it as a chance and sprints away. Upon doing this, he creates enough noise for the troll to look up, now noticing how there was someone here with him, but they had run away.

John Dory barely registers the troll’s voice, yelling at him to come back with pleas of help. He runs and runs until he’s back at his camp and grips his knees as he tries to breathe. His chest aches with every wheeze he tries to breathe in and even then, he has to sit down briefly to catch his breath.

What was that? Who was that troll? Why were they stuck in John Dory’s trap? More importantly, what kind of troll was he?? A tail for legs? John Dory couldn’t have seen anything more peculiar.

He lets his breathing settle, his vision coming back to him as John Dory heaves out a big breath through his nose.

… What now? John Dory had run off, away from the strange troll when they were in obvious pain. It’d be awkward to go back, especially when they needed help. What an asshole he’d appear to them and John Dory wasn’t sure how they’d take it. But he’s even more of an asshole for running off in the first place! He groans, burying his face into his hands as he did so.

God, was running his go-to for everything inconvenient? … Actually, he’s not going to unpack that at the moment. Hopefully he’ll never have to unpack it.

What could John Dory do, truly? He could turn back and go help the guy out of his predicament then never have to see him again. Or, he could just up and leave and potentially be a bigger asshole than he was right now.

John Dory looks around.

He groans once more to himself. Then he gets up, grabbing a knife and some clippers before he turns and heads back in the direction of the troll.

Surely, he won’t regret this decision… right? Right.

Chapter Text

In hindsight, it was pretty stupid of Trollex to sneak out of his kingly duties and swim away from the techno colony for what he swears was going to be a fun little adventure around the sea, or wherever he hadn’t explored yet. He swears that was the case and he was going to be back by breakfast, seeing as how he left just before dawn. Well, that was the case until he got caught in one of these fishing traps.

Honestly, Trollex doesn’t understand land trolls and he’s certain that he never will, but why were fishing traps necessary? They had all these other sources of food on land, why throw these contraptions into their territory to get food from their place?? He honestly doesn’t get it, but he will comment that land trolls were absolutely skilled because man, did this trap hurt like a bitch.

“Owowowowow-” Trollex winces, feeling tears prick at the edges of his eyes as he blinks them away. His fingers were dug into the dirt underneath his body and the water that dripped from his body was soaking into the dirt, effectively turning it into what was called ‘mud’ by the land trolls.

Normally, Trollex would be out by now. The traps that land trolls throw into bodies of water usually weren’t all that complex, only made to capture smaller, more docile sea creatures. They didn’t hurt as much nor were they a nuisance if Trollex ever got caught in one of them, the mechanism overall would be flimsy, thus easily breakable. However, whoever made this trap clearly had their work cut out for them, because it was bigger, more complex and god, did it hurt.

He can’t even move from his spot, because if he did, then Trollex would be returning home with a wounded ego and an even more wounded tail. Which would have warranted questions and that was the last thing he needed right now.

The string from the net was tightly wound around the base of Trollex’s tail, snagged in place as it didn’t budge. Some parts of it wrapped around the more central part of his tail, but the string around the base of the tail was tightening the more he moved and he’s sure that there were going to be some scars, guaranteed.

“Okay, what if I just-?” he sucks in a breath, attempting to perhaps at least sit up to turn around and undo the knot around his tail, but effectively lays back down quickly, biting down a pained yell. “Ah, shit, nope, nonono, nope, not doing that.”

At this point, he’s just ready to lay down and succumb to his fate. There’s no way he’s going to get out without somehow injuring himself and his tail. If that happened, then Trollex would have to hold off coming back home for a bit longer, just to delay the onslaught of questions that was bound to happen. The mertroll groans, burying his face into the dirt in dismay.

This was stupid. He should be out by now. Why wasn’t he free? Oh right, because the damn trap is hurting his damn tail!

“Stupid land trolls and their stupid traps…” Trollex curses under his breath, lying helplessly on the ground. He has no hope at this point, no one was around in the vicinity to help him and he’s sure that the thing that ran off probably wasn’t even a troll. They were too nimble, too quick and quiet to be any sort of troll for that matter.

So Trollex lays there, limp and defeated. Mentally, he begins writing out his will in his head (if he was going to die, let him die sensibly at the very least), appointing several things to several people that came to mind and he’s just about to come to the problem of passing down his crown to some other techno troll, when he feels a heavy hand on his shoulder.

Trollex jerks immediately, yelping in both pain and surprise as he does so and twists his body so harshly (he might’ve heard a snap from his neck) to face- a troll? What the fuck?

The techno troll blinks, taken surprise by the appearance of this new troll, who looks to be equally as confused at Trollex himself.

They were a land troll, but from which genre of music, Trollex didn’t know. They were slightly tall and broad, sporting a brown sleeveless jacket with a furred collar and some green shorts. A pair of goggles sat on the top of their head and it was clear that they might’ve been on a camping trip from their get-up. But the troll struck Trollex odd. The troll themselves looked… odd.

Trollex ruled out the option of the troll being a Pop troll. No offence to them, but they looked a little… drab. Dark in colour and as far as Trollex knew, Pop trolls were vibrant blurs of colour, always bursting with energy. This troll was teal, but a very dark shade of teal, so much so that it was bordering on an off-ish hue of gray. Their hair looked to be black at the tips of their hair, fading down into a brighter teal green by the time it hit the roots.

Overall, the general color scheme of the mysterious troll was odd to say the least, so they were definitely not a Pop troll, nor were they a Country for that matter. The chance of the troll being a Rock troll came into his mind, but it just didn’t fit the troll’s overall look. Did Funk even have trolls that looked like them? Or Classical?? And they were also definitely not a Techno troll, so what exactly were they? 

Trollex flinches when the troll extends a hand, instinctively backing away. He grimaces as pain shoots up his tail, an uncomfortable feeling of nausea curling up in his belly. Unfortunately, it would seem that the unknown troll didn’t understand the universal body language of someone backing up from them, instead scooting forward and slowly resting their hand back on his shoulder.

On instinct, Trollex hisses, baring his teeth in hopes of possibly scaring off the other troll. Much to his surprise however, the troll growls right back, baring teeth just as sharp as Trollex’s own. The king falters, eyes blinking slowly and widely in confusion. The troll doesn’t comment, instead reaching into the leather-brown vest and pulling out a pair of clippers.

Ah, so they were trying to help him. Now he just feels awful, he didn't mean to growl at the troll. Trollex was just skeptical, it wasn’t often he met land trolls and when he did, they weren’t all that kind to him.

The troll scoots forward, closer this time before slowly raising the clippers towards Trollex’s tail, not so subtly glancing at him from the corner of their eyes. It was obvious that they were trying to gauge his reaction, in case they made a wrong move or anything. While skeptical, Trollex was not stupid. Nor was he gullible. As much as he wanted to not trust this unknown troll, the pain in his tail was becoming a bit too unbearable. So instead, he sucks up his pride and shifts his tail in the direction of the troll, trying not to wince as more pain increases the nausea and pressure he was already feeling.

The troll sees this and wastes no time getting to work. Luckily, they pull away their hand from his shoulder, instead using it to gingerly maneuver his tail around to cut off parts of the net that coiled its way around the appendage. They snip, cutting carefully so as to not harm the skin of his tail.

Trollex watches all the while, eyeing this stranger with skeptical eyes. He isn’t sure entirely what to make of them, other than the fact that apparently, they wanted to help him for whatever reason. But as the troll continued to cut around his tail, cutting parts that were loose enough to wriggle the clippers in between the space, it became obvious that they weren’t going to harm him.

Trollex stares at the troll, then musters up the energy to at least say something. “... Thank you.”

The troll doesn’t stop cutting the net, but their ear swivels in his direction, making them glance up briefly before going back to work.

“No problem,” they reply, voice gruff as they manage to loosen the knot around the base of Trollex’s fin and the utter relief that comes crashing onto him once it comes off is heavenly to the techno troll. The fins were always (annoyingly enough) the more sensitive parts of their bodies. Anything that harmed it or came in contact with it hurt terribly, so having that tight knot around the base of that was the equivalent to dragging Trollex around by his hair essentially.

He sags visibly, not caring at the moment if it was unfitting for a king to do it. He's much too focused on the relief that he's been given by this mysterious troll. Silently, Trollex thanks whatever god was looking down on him.

The rest of the net came off easily once the troll had managed to cut a strand that was holding it all together and it was just a matter of brushing it away from Trollex’s tail. Though, it still aches due to the wounds and bruises the net had somehow managed to embed onto his skin. But it would be fine. Some herbs, a lot of questions and a lot of nagging and Trollex would be fine, surely.

The troll backs off once they know their job is done, sitting back as they slip the clippers back into their vest. Trollex curls up his tail to his chest, caressing the wounds and easing the aching pain away with gentle brushes of his hand.

Both of them are silent now, awkwardly not knowing what to say to the other. The troll breaks the silence by coughing into their fist.

“Is uh,” they start, tapping nervously against their knee. “Is your tail okay?”

Trollex stares at the troll, curled up to protect what was injured. Though, he does feel a bit bad. This troll had just helped him and if they had any ill intentions towards him, they would’ve done something by now.

“It’s… fine. Hurts, but it’ll heal,” he eventually responds, feeling compelled to do so as he sighs slightly. The bruises and cuts definitely hurt, but it won’t be that much of a problem. Trollex will heal quickly.

“Ah, okay,” the troll slowly nods in return. They return to tapping their knee rather nervously, the silence and awkwardness of the situation slowly getting to them.

When it seems like they’ve had enough, the troll slowly stands up and clears his throat like they were about to announce something.

“Then, uh, I’ll just… go, I guess,” they mutter softly under their breath. Both Trollex and the stranger look at each other for a hot second before the stranger turns and begins to walk away.

Suddenly, Trollex feels compelled to call out to this stranger. He isn’t sure why, but it was probably because this troll - whoever they were - had quite literally just saved him. If Trollex had been stuck for any longer, there’s a good chance he might’ve died from how painful it’d been.

His mind races and for a moment, Trollex only had one thing to say to the stranger.

"Wait!” He calls out, just as the troll was about to disappear behind the treeline. Obviously stiffening, the troll hesitantly turns to glance at Trollex.

“I.. uhm…” the king briefly pauses for a moment to think of what to say. “What’s your name?”

That’s right, he could at least get the name of the strange troll who’d just helped him. The stranger looked at Trollex and when it seemed like they weren’t going to reply, they spoke up.

“It’s… John Dory. JD for short,” they say and Trollex can’t help the slight smile that comes to his face. A name for the troll who’d just saved him.

“I’m Trollex,” he then says in exchange. The troll - whose name was JD - slowly nodded in return before ultimately turning and disappearing into the trees.

Trollex doesn’t take long before he crawls across the grass and dives back into the river. He really needed to get back home before Marina beated some common sense into his head.

Chapter Text

True to what he had expected, Marina had not only beated some common sense into his head, but also gave him an earful of a lecture about wandering too close to the surface. She isn’t stupid; far from it, if Trollex would argue. She knows when he’s snuck out to go exploring, ever the young adventurer he is, and she knows when he had got himself caught in a predicament, prompting her to wound his ego a little more.

“Honestly, I don’t even know how you’re running this colony if you’re getting stuck in fish traps,” she clicks her tongue at him, shaking her head. Trollex pouts, exagerrated as he crosses his arms with a huff.

“It wasn’t just some fish trap!” He huffs, because truly, he never knows when to back off when it comes to his ego. “It was a fish trap. I was stuck there for hours , Marina!”

Marina just scoffs, rolling her eyes, her hands on her hips. Honestly, sometimes Trollex reckons she’d make a better leader; she’s always been the no-nonesense type of person while their actual king is sneaking out because council meetings are boring . In his defense though, most council meetings talked his fin ears off about whatever boring stuff they managed to find. That, and he’s never been able to sit still for so long.

She proceeds to reprimand him for the next hour or so, only letting Trollex go once he was needed for something important. Marina sent him with a firm slap to his head and a warning to be careful next time. Though, if anyone truly looked, they would see the fondness and exasperation in her tone.

The entirety of the next two days, Trollex has begun to think.

Who was that odd troll back at that riverside? He’s never seen such an odd troll before, much less one who was willing to not only approach a Techno troll, but also help him.

Trollex’s parents had never shied away from their origins, telling him of why the world was separated in the way that it was. He used to have nightmares of land trolls attacking them and his fears only got worse when his parents left and never came back. It was only a month after their disappearance that he’d been crowned as king, left with an uneasiness and a paranoia that still gnawed at him, despite his carefree nature.

And yet, despite all the tales he’s been told, all the warnings from his elders, that troll had just gone and proved everything he thought and believed to be wrong.

Sometimes, Trollex can still feel the ghost of the troll’s hands on his tail, delicately cutting the trap (which probably belonged to them, now that he thought about it) and setting him free. The troll’s hands were calloused, marred and scarred like someone that had primed themselves to live in the wilderness.

Perhaps the troll wasn’t there for a camping trip; maybe they lived there for all he knew.

The thought made Trollex even more curious as a result. He knows it’s a morbid kind of curiosity; the kind that has made his kind and many others go missing. Becoming too interested, too curious about a land troll spelled trouble and Trollex, in all sense of logic and common sense, shouldn’t really poke a sleep bearfish in hibernation.

…

Then again, when has he ever listened to himself?

The river is a familiar winding path, taking him back towards the spot he’d been caught in a trap. This time, Trollex swims carefully to avoid any traps. The only reason he’d gotten stuck in the first place is because he’d been swimming carelessly and well…

Not this time though; this time, he was going to be careful.

And it pays off, because soon, Trollex approaches what seems to be a camp in the distance.

Slowly, he swims along the edge of the river, peeking over the edge to look on in curiosity. He’s never seen a camp before, not up close either. It’s pretty simple; a campfire in the middle, a tent pitched next to it, with some equipment stacked up meticulously. The troll was nowhere to be seen, but Trollex kept himself close to the water, not wanting to be caught.

He scans the periphery of the camp site. Vaguely, he wonders where the troll was and why he’d leave his camp alone.

‘Maybe he left,’ Trollex thinks with a slight frown, tail swishing in the water. Sure, it didn’t explain why his stuff was still here, but he didn’t understand why he’d be here in the first place anyways.

And well, he didn’t understand why he himself was here either, but he chalks it up to the fact that he was curious. And maybe lonely too, but that’s something else.

He spends a few moments just swimming back and forth, curiously studying and taking in everything that’s presented to him. It’s all so peculiar, seeing gadgets and gizmos that he’s never seen before in his life. Trollex almost finds himself wanting to climb onto the surface, if just to take a look at the objects up close.

A rustle in the distance and Trollex instinctively ducks down.

There’s the sound of footsteps coming near, something being dragged across too. Trollex slowly pulls himself up to look over the edge, holding down his coils and looks around very tentatively.

He perks up.

The land troll is here!

The land troll - or JD, as Trollex remembers belatedly - was currently doing something, dragging what looked to be a… dead creature? He can’t be too sure, but it looks like the lifeless corpse of a land animal. Trollex can’t help but shudder a little with unease. He kept himself low and pressed to the edge as much as he could muster.

JD had the leg of the dead animal over his shoulder, hauling it with hefty grunts, each step he took. There’s a pile of sticks he’s carrying in the other arm, probably to use to cook the animal, as Trollex has seen from his past observations with land trolls. Though, through his past observations, this kind of ritual was done in a large group of land trolls, all who share one massive creature among themselves. This land troll - JD - was doing it all by himself.

Trollex wonders why.

He ends up staying for a little longer than he anticipates, watching as JD went on about with his duties in his campsite. He stayed to watch as the land troll set up the fire and set it alight. He stayed to watch as the land troll cut the creature into sizable pieces. Stayed to watch as the land troll ate, cleaned up, did some odd things here and there.

Stayed to watch and watch, until Trollex realizes that he’s practically been here for half the day!

“Shit,” he mutters, turning his head to see the sun setting in the distance. It’s not even his day off, and yet he’s missed almost all of his duties. God, he’s going to get an earful from Marina and the elders.

Trollex gives a grumble to himself, turning his head back towards the campsite - promptly startling a little when he sees JD already looking at him.

How long has the land troll been looking? Has he noticed him just now? Oh well, there’s no point in trying to hide again, so…

Trollex gives a small wave. And internally beams when JD, albeit hesitantly, waves back. Then he dives back into the water and all but rushes to swim back to the colony, hoping that he would be spared an earful lecture from both Marina and the elders.

Spoiler alert; he was not spared from an earful lecture.

Upon arriving back to the colony, Trollex had not only been lectured to hell and back, he was also - quote unquote - punished for his irresponsibility. It’s not his fault, he lost track of time! Of course, he’s not about to use that excuse with the elders fuming, so he sheepishly smiled and accepted the punishment.

Now, one would think that because of this incentive, Trollex would cease his interest in the land troll, thus ceasing his need to sneak out and spy on JD for a little while.

Double spoiler alert; he does not stop spying on JD. In fact, Trollex would say that his interest with the land troll seemed to… double, dare he say it.

He’s learnt to time himself properly, going back at a certain time so that he could avoid being punished and lectured. Fortunately, Trollex has come to find out that JD has a pretty repetitive routine, so it’s easy for him to keep track of what time it was through that.

For the past few weeks, Trollex has been coming and going to watch JD go on about his day.

No, it’s not weird and it’s certainly not spying or stalking , as Marina would put - rather indelicately. He’s just… observing. For curiosity sake, of course! It’s not like this is the first time Trollex has been watching land trolls from afar - he’s done this before with other sorts of trolls who come by near the shore. It’s just, this is the first time he’s been observing the same troll for weeks now.

Trollex would’ve thought that JD had left by now; after all, land trolls always seemed to be on the move. They were never really idle for long, as far as he was concerned, so it didn’t make sense to him as to why this particular land troll was still here .

He’s trying to rationalize this. That, and also why he’s so intent on coming back.

Marina - bless her for both being the subject listener of his rants and not tattling on him - has pointed out that it’s the first time she’s seen him take such a keen interest in something. Considering his attention span, she tells him that she’s surprised he hasn’t moved on from this just yet.

And well, Trollex would argue that this wasn’t just a land troll. JD wasn’t just some land troll - he saved him!

JD could have well left him alone to suffer in that trap by himself, but he hadn’t. He had saved him and for that, Trollex was grateful. Perhaps that explained his keen interest; a sense of gratitude that he had to reciprocate.

So he continues his observing, his watching. He continues sneaking out, continuously coming back to that same spot to watch, observe and think.

After all, it’s not odd, isn’t it?