The fox moved his whiskers by slightly wrinkling his lip. Like all liars he reflected before he spoke, and sometimes even let wise silences do better than speech.
"Men live here and men live there," said the fox.
"I want their haunts," said the troll.
"What for?" said the fox.
"I have a message from the King of Elfland."
The fox showed no respect or fear at the mention of that dread name, but slightly moved his head and eyes to conceal the awe that he felt.
"If it is a message," he said, "their haunts are over there." And he pointed with his long thin nose towards Erl.
"How shall I know when I get there?" said the troll.
"By the smell," said the fox. "It is a big haunt of men, and the smell is dreadful."
"Thanks, Noman's Dog," said the troll. And he seldom thanked anyone.