He breathes calmly, watching the cursor float over its targets... slowly but steadily.
Despite the incredible levels of boredom his hands are steady, his mind focused. There's no time to spend on panicking or exasperating.
He must be strong; his wits depend on it.
Hundreds of topics flash before his eyes, but he doesn't waste a click. No. That would reveal his position and turn this hunter into a prey. Instead he waits to find that sensible gap where his words will hit the mark, but without silencing it...
This predator knows his game: the wounded victim will whelp, calling the attention of those surrounding it... And where there was only one person to take down, there suddenly appears ten, twenty...
Then he just changes his position, reloads his gun... And watches Schindler's List from first person.
The Troll laughs. But he knows this is not entertainment. It's part of his work. Part of a dirty job someone must do.
Yeah, I'm bored.
