You get a glimpse of green-ish, olive-ish blood before the troll in front of you snorts like a bull. Giving him a weird look, you brace yourself when he shoves himself to his feet and starts charging at you. The hit is much harsher than predicted. The pickax flies from your grasp, and you seem to black out for a moment before you find yourself pinned against a wall. There's a split moment where you both look at each other, and he gives the same awkward look that you do.

There are definitely some black implications of your current situation, however oblivious any on-looking humans might be.

Before you can directly react, he grabs your shoulders and slams you into the wall. You feel a sharp pain in your back -- you definitely hit a jutted brick. You let out a pained cry and then growl, grabbing the front of the troll's hair and slinging him backward off of you. As he stumbles back, you push yourself off of the wall and raise your leg to give him a hefty kick to the chest. You look at him, feeling the primitive urge to go after and rip his windpipe out of his throat.

Then you turn and start running. You don't want to kill him. You don't want to fight him.