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02-10-2015, 06:22 PM
Begrudgingly, the malicious King followed. If he were a young, petulant child, he may have kicked at the dirt or dragged his feet along the ice and gravel, purposefully slowing down all efforts at fun or amusement, grouching and frowning the entire while. Since he was a matured, reticent fiend, however, all he did was silently brood and glower at the back of Thranduil’s head, seeing if it’d burst from the seething mounds of vehemence. When it didn’t, disappointingly, he set forth upon the given task, drawing his lips into a thin, resentful line, maw holding tightly onto his bucket, and watched the other beast and his companion for a matter of moments as they slammed against the cavern walls, catching ice. Presiding carefully, he set his bucket down upon the ground, and walked to a series of icicles only slightly taller than himself, and in a majestic-half rear, raised his frame high enough so when he slashed with his long rapier, the icicles tumbled down to the floor. Several shattered, and others remained full; he stashed each and every one into the bucket, wishing he could set fire to the container and melt them down (but then they’d likely have no bucket, and no way to get the water back; another nuisance to add to the tally of vexations). Instead, amidst his brewing silence, he continued with his task, chopping at more and more icicles.
[Task 2!]
[Task 2!]
