Gravlox leered at the fox, debating whether it might be tastier than grilled skwerl. Then, with a toothsome grin, he knelt by the animal and spoke.
"Oh, tell me do, mister fox, sir,
all about these Elven jocks, sir,
can we pelt them with grey rocks, sir,
and muss their pretty Elven smocks, sir?"
Behind him, Kerplunck sniggered as he fixed himself a breakfast of green eggs and ham. The Captain glanced back at his mohawked lieutenant, and in a momentary flash of insight, Gravlox knew what he could offer the fox in exchange for information...
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Beleriand, Beleriand,
the borders of the Elven-land.
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