Agitated, I awaken. The night air is cool and crisp on my rump. There is danger near. I hate trolls. Always poking, and asking for money. This wasn't a troll though. Or was it? No, no it's probably a bird, I hate birds too.
In any case I gallop down a winding path to the group sitting around a fire. There I see a handsome, tall, shadowy, man with a dark features and piercing eyes, and some other people.
"Master!" I whinny, he turns and with a sparkle in his eye recognizes my distraught state of mind.
"What's wrong Misty?" He asks.
I snort like this. Whipping my beautiful, silky, black mane.
"There's danger." He tells the others, "Probably trolls, Misty hates trolls..." Suddenly alert the group stops discussing the philosophical implications of a (most likely) delicious, sandwich containing spells of mass destruction.
"To Arms Companions!" the Green man with the big boobs says, roaring with triumph before any triumph has been had. The whole group, including my master seems suddenly even more alert. At the corners of my peripheral vision, I see them: a man with a rat face, a man with a fish face, a man in a dress, and... a troll! Disgusting. I hate trolls.
I rear up and bellow, wild eyed and beautiful. When I land I gallop toward the troll.
"Noooo! Misty, don't!" The Shadowy man yells. But it's too late, when I get crazy eyes there's no stopping me. I charge the troll, thinking of their gross gnarled fingers and unkempt, yellowed finger nails... poking... their raspy voices, "Do you have any spare change," disgusting.
I rear on the troll and land my hooves on his stupid, ugly troll face. The troll goes down like an apple falling from a tree, but unlike a tasty treat gently landing in the grass, his head explodes like an overripe plum under the pressure of my well manicured hooves. But it's not enough. I continue alternately stamping each of my front hooves all over his body like I'm making apple sauce, until his entire body is pulverized. Purple troll blood squirts in every direction. Each squish makes me feel as if a little goodness has returned to the world.
After what seems like hours I turn on the corpse and kick my back leg so dust flies over the body. I can see in my peripheral vision that the group is stunned. The Green one slowly begins to clap his big manly hands, the elf and the Black one have stopped in the middle of their spell preparation to gape. My master's sister licks her lips.
My master simply states, "What can I say? He hates trolls..."
Proud, I canter off the board, letting out a satisfied sigh. In the background I can hear them beginning to battle, but I know they'll be fine now that the troll is gone. I'm going to get double brushings for this tomorrow. Pretty, pretty.