I dream of Polar night

Charon's excitement to hearing a story was contagious - even Osprey felt the joy for the upcoming moment rising, even though she had no idea about, what kind of a tale she was going to tell. She rarely retold one twice, preferring to come up with a new one every single time. "So... trolls are mysterious beings that prefer to dwell in the mountains or, where there are a lot of rocks. The older the place is, the more chances are that you will get to see and meet one there.

No one knows, how they appeared on the Earth, but some say that they are made of mix of old rocks, moss, some twigs and a sprinkle of magic. And this magic - the ability to do wondorous things that others cannot - is of an ancient and special kind. There are very few or most likely no creature at all, who knows, how it works. Trolls themselves - of course - know, but they won't tell it for what is worth.

They are neither good, nor bad - a mix of both - just like we people are. Yet they tend to keep to themselves most of the time, living in small or big families, rarely alone. The funny thing is - that they are so secretive - that some people can live all their lives alongside a friendly family of trolls and never find it out," Osprey told the little kid, her eyes alight from the rush of the burst of imagination.

"Now that you know a bit about them - help me out," she wanted to involve the kid in the making of the tale. "Pick a name of a troll - whatever comes to your mind, and try to imagine, what would he like to do the most in his life?"