The rhythmic fluttering of insectoid wings alert you to the presence of your lusus outside. With a yawn, you slip out of the ablution trap and wipe away the remaining liquid with a towel before dressing yourself in one of your more colorful clothes. You're only wearing this because today is apparently 'Sew-More-Clothes-With-Your-Lusus' day, instead of 'Be-An-Archaeologist-In-Your-Lawnring-Again' day.
Before you went to sleep the other day, you had desperately wished that your lusus would be too tired to drag you into another day of sewing. However, it's really unlikely that this will happen now.
You take a look outside your window, where the sun was just beginning to rise. By now, all of your friends would be asleep, and you would be awake. Nobody else to talk to but your lusus; after all, you're the only troll you know that can withstand the sun.