"And every argument over my clothes is a testament to our everlasting friendship," he snorts with a roll of his eyes. "I got stuck in a stupid cape and these ugly, sparkly tattoos for last Crowning. I hated every second of it and if not for the fact I had no choice I never would have worn it. It didn't make me look cute, good, or any other word; it made me look like a glittery tool." A good part of things is probably the trollish disdain for fashion, but he doesn't mention that.

"I'm not cute on my own, either. I am a squat, nub-horned mistake on the vision receptors, and my perpetual scowl only heightens the effect." Pulling his lips back, he displays his nubby fangs.