Blood was dripping off the spear as Lilac managed to pull it back from the carcass of the blond elf with that silly knot in his hair. What did that fool call himself? Cur... something like that. Lilac didn't really care. It was just a silly name.
What kind of an elf carried a name like that willingly? Lilac dried some sweat of his forehead, and scratched his brown hair. Damn fleas. This had to be a Wolfrider, Lilac's hair only itched like this when he killed one of those.
It didn't matter. That elf was dead now, and good riddance. It was old and weak. The old and weak should die by the spears which was wielded by him. Who else would kill them if he didn't? The trolls had to much to gain on their existence. And the beasts were to slow.
No, it was Lilac who was victorious in slaying these foul creatures. No one else could kill his kind like he did, and frankly, he wanted to keep it that way. There was no need of them and their hugs and recognitions and that crap.
Lilac loosened the canteen from his belt and poured himself more of those delicious drops of apple cider which the humans gave him in exchange of slaying the elves which bothered them so. It was a good deal, after all, who other could make such fine drink?