Poppy In Trolls Novels & Stories

says Graydon with a smile. "Oh no," I say as I start to see where he's going with this. Trolls are walking, talking, twelve feet tall stink bombs. Most of the time they are just smelly. But when they feel threatened or angry or upset or annoyed or even just a little bored, they can let off a stink that will knock everyting within 100 metres flat. "Yes exactly," says Graydon. "Not quite a smoke bomb. Troll bomb." The others suck in their breath. "That's harsh," says the blue-haired guy but he's nodding approvingly.

The murmurs started before I even reached the tavern—sharp, jagged whisper that made my ears burn. When I pushed through the heavy doors of Poppy’s, the silence was instantaneous. Poppy was behind the bar, polishing a pewter mug with a ferocity that suggested she was already spoiling for a fight. When she saw me, a wicked, delighted grin spread across her face. "There she is!" Poppy crowed, loud enough to make the three old wolves at the corner table jump. "The woman who brought the crown prince to his knees without even breaking a sweat." "Poppy, please," I hissed, rushing through the kitchen door to hide. "It wasn't like that."

Poppy teases, reaching over to brush his hair back from his forehead. He yawns wide enough to show every little tooth, then blinks up at me. “Can I have pancakes?” “Pancakes?” I echo, feigning shock. “That’s a big request for someone who’s barely awake.” He shrugs, eyes already drooping again. “I like making them.” “Yeah,” I whisper, kissing the top of his head. “That’s reason enough, baby.” Poppy watches us, her expression soft but full of something fierce beneath it. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” she asks quietly.

And this time, ‘he’ is here to ensure minimal damage, as he promised to the other Lords. Trolls marched to the capital walls, their heavy boulder-like feet sending tremors and quakes for miles. Accompanying the trolls are the organized human army, townspeople from the outskirts trained to become their soldiers in exchange for food and shelter to them and their families who were unfit to fight, such as pregnant women, the elderly, or children. The human army was armed with sabers and steel armor, like true soldiers.

The pack moved cautiously, alert but undeterred. After several hours of walking, the group suddenly came to a halt as a rustling sound echoed through the trees ahead. Without hesitation, they fell into defensive stances, the wolves baring their teeth and the humans drawing their weapons. Emerging from the darkness were several towering figures—trolls, their massive forms lumbering into the moonlight. Damien’s heart pounded, his body tensing as he prepared for an attack. The trolls were enormous, with thick, gray skin and long arms that swung by their sides, but instead of charging, they stopped at a distance and raised their hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Trolls! Welcome our latest victims—did I say victims? I meant members!” Laughter erupted from the crowd. Raven raised a hand and the laughter dissolved. “I need a volunteer to wrestle them,” she continued. “Let’s see how fast their bones snap!” A troll stepped forward. He was massive—twice my height, thick with muscle, his skin the color of wet clay. “I’ll break them in two!” he bellowed, slamming a keg to the ground. The crowd cheered louder. I stepped forward. They laughed harder. “She’s serious?” one jeered.

“Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just teasing you. Of course, I want to hear it. Unless you’re going to tell me that Kayla was promoted, or worse, got herself a billionaire or something.” “Ew, no!” Poppy replied. “She can kiss my ass. I couldn’t care less. Anyway…so, do you remember that pop rock band we watched at Coachella a couple of years ago with the cute bass player and the hot singer?” she asks, her voice way too excited for me to keep up.

Holly laughs and with magic hurl Poppy through the barrier and steps through it herself. The magic comes off of me and I collapse on the floor and scream. On the floor were the portal opened are a red poppy flower but it turned black as it whilted. Holly kidnapped Poppy.

The trolls spoke their own language, and it was unlike anything I’d heard before. Their voices were deep and gravelly. They chatted among themselves and pretended not to understand me when I spoke, but I knew very well that they could. The smallest one was on my left, and seemed very taken with me. He was the only one who looked friendly, and eventually he started talking. I knew it! I knew they could understand me. “Tell me about trolls,” I asked. I’d found out his name was Cory and his dad was the leader of this clan. “How do you shape-shift?”

"Look, Ms. Chastain is here from the development company. I want to take her out and show her why we're not selling any McFall land." "Ms. Chastain is it now?" Rolly muttered under his breath. "Rolly, I swear to God…" "Um, hello?" Poppy stood uncertainly in the barn doorway. Her bag was gone, and she'd pulled her hair into a ponytail. Her sunglasses rested on top of her head. Hunter cut a look at Rolly, who held up his hands in mock surrender. "We're just about ready," Hunter called to her.