“Whatever happened here?” the moon asked the bird, sleeping on the branch of a huge tree.
“Trolls attacked… they chopped off our homes, and every thing else…”
“Really? I will tell sun, wait till the summer, or a couple of summers… we will roast them, choke them…”
“Fly away from here, I will let you know what happens to these, brainless lugs, We will have our laugh together!” Moon promised.