The little troll
Not so long ago, in a forest not so far away, lived a little troll.
It was unclear were he came from how long he lived there. The owls murmured about far away pine forests in the mountains, while mice squeaked about he came from across the rivers. Every part of the forest and creature had its own story, but in thruth, no one really knew.
The little troll lived in a remote corner of the forest. It's home was nothing more than two stone slabs pitched up against each other, covered with some dirt, moss and leaves to keep out the rain. The floor of his 'hut' was covered in leaves to keep him warm at night. All in all it was not much, but it was all he needed.
Arround the hut the ground was littered with with small leftover bones from rabbits, rats and other creatures that had the misfortune of crossing its path. The only other thing that stood out was the faint smell of rott lingering in the air. All in all a inhospitable place for thing that preffered the sunlight, but that's how the troll liked it.
The most anyone heard of him was occasional scream echoing through the forest. None of the creatures in the forest saw or heard much else him or at least they tried, because no one wanted to cross paths with the troll.
The creatures in the forest learned early on in life, to avoid him. Squirrels darted away and bird stop singing as soon as they saw or heard him. Any creature that was not that attentive soon ended up hurt or, even worse, as his next meal.
The troll liked few things, while on the other hand he disliked many things. In fact one could even say he hated most things. For instance it was no coincidence that the forest had almost no flowers in spring. The happy colours of life and new possibilities stirred a deep anger in the troll. Spewing and screaming he ran stomping over the small meadows. So much so that each and every flowers was reduced to nothing more than brown pulp.
At one point the forest was struck with a great fire. All the creatures fled or took refuge where they could. The deers jumped through the undergrowth, birds flew far away and the mice and rabbit hid deep in their burrows. The only one who took advantage of the drama was the fox. Cunning as he was, he hunted the dazed and scared creatures in front of the advancing fire. There was nothing special about this, except the event that transpired next.
Along the line of fire the fox noticed a shape.
At first he had some trouble recognizing it, but then it hit him. It was the troll.
He felt the instinct the flee, but something stopped him. The troll did not move or even look at the fox. It's gaze was fixed on the approaching fire instead.
The fox was still torn between fear and curiousity while he looked over and again between the safety of the forest and the shape. The tension rose further and further, until it broke in utter disbelief.
The troll did the unthinkable and stepped into the fire.
The fox froze as he watched. The flames started to creep up along his feet and grabbed hold of him. He started to burn, but strangely only made a small sound of discomfort. As the flames grew higher arround him, the darkness of his shape started to fade and disappear into the yellow light of the fire.