[It is, it must be said, pretty cold to be living in an outdoor camp. Even for a troll. He has a good fire burning, but still.]

[Currently, he is sitting beside that fire, sharpening his sword, partly for maintenance and mostly to keep himself moving. He looks up at her approach, and there is a hint of a smile on his tusked face. He had not expected to see her here.]

[Setting his sword and whetstone aside, he stands to greet her.]

It would be a shame to build so much of a camp, and leave it for no reason.

Will you not come closer to the fire? It is cold, tonight.