A Seasonal Fable (part 4)

Sing a carol, now, to the Frigid Folk. Call them the children of the Frost Lord. Call them holy mischief. Call them merry mayhem. They all grin with demented joy. They know the names of every child who fell through the ice. They bring gifts of festive chaos. They gather souls for the army of their lord. Best to leave out something sweet, lest they find something else to nibble and eat. O, darling. O, deario! You better make merry. The alternative’s quite scary. <i>Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!</i>