Grendel was a species all his own. Often branded a swamp monster for his, and his mothers, penchant to live deep in murky swamps and lakes. But he simply wasn't. Confused for a troll by a few ignorant historians, called a demon in the Christianized Mundy retelling of his tale- a very bastardized retelling. For Christianity hadn't entered Scandinavia in the years when Denmark's housecarls and hirdman were under siege by this ferocious creature.
Now mainly a confrontational introvert, he still takes great offense at any invasion of his privacy. Be it the Sheriff in Holly's bar or memories of rowdy Danes drinking and carrying on for days in their noisy mead-hall- but I digress. Grendel loved his peace and quiet then, and he still strives for it today.
About that Sheriff, the one who barged in whenever he wanted, yeah.
The glamored monster clutched his bourbon and audibly sighed. Watching from the corner of his eyes as the sheriff bristled, casing the bar and its patrons, as well as casing him and the Woodsman as threats. Holly wouldn't leave her counter, those fragile glasses were her livelihood. And unlike Grendel, the sheriff didn't respect them as such. Annoyance grew under his temple, he wanted the man out. Wanted his quiet, wanted his peace.
"Bigby," The gruff woman greeted, "This a social visit?" she said with her usual drawl.
"Snow wants to know if you I.D'd some Mundy women a few..." He scratched at his stubble turning his head to the side, "Weeks back."
"What? Why the hell would I remember something like that?" She protested. "Mundy women? What the hell Bigby?"
He shrugged her exasperation off. "Just following up with something you submitted to the office for claims."
That pissed her off. "Dammit Bigby! From weeks ago! How fucked is that office?" Shaking her head in annoyance. She put her hands down on the bar, her stress visible.
"Just fuck off sheriff." Grendel said, adding his voice to the sound of her tired sigh.
Waving her hand in front of her to dismiss him, the other on her face she told him, "It's fine, it's fine. Don't know why I bothered to submit that shit."
Stepping right up to the bar he placed an envelope in front of her. Crisp and professional, clearly the work of Snow white's diligent hands. "The office processed your claim as fast as it could and, egh, really. Jack? He's not the most reliable errand boy."
"Kid needs work." She replied, scooping the envelope up quickly. Allowing a rough troll nail to eek through her glamor, she sliced away the seal. Holly poured the contents onto the bar, nearly a thousand dollars and a small folded note. "Heh."
Grendel's eyebrow flicked up in mild appreciation, the woodsman gave a bellowing, "About time!".
The sheriffs form retreated and the patrons of the bar gathered around for a rare moment of triumph.