On the way out of the Great Hall they buttoned their jackets, put on mittens, and pulled hats down over their ears. Even elves got cold outside in December at the North Pole, and Adley was susceptible to the points on his ears going numb.
“I can’t claim to be a lyricist,” Keru warned, “but seeing as you asked, I suppose I’d include a verse on the power of the sea, and how humble it makes me feel. There would have to be a verse about the satisfaction of gathering food for my neighborhood, of course, the same as our songs praise the joy of creating toys for the rest of you.”
“I’m a mechanic for toy production. Nobody sings about my work, though the finished product is lauded, and it is satisfying.” To be fair, Adley didn’t think the details of his job would make a very interesting song. His supervisor had tried once, to very poor results.