Dreams.

One cloudy morning, a girl named Trutti-Basket-with-Sweets approached the foot of a gentle hill near the town of Jyväskylä and saw a large, red-nosed troll digging in his teeth with a poker.
Trutti-Basket-with-Sweets stopped in confusion.
“Excuse me,” she mumbled. “Aren’t elves supposed to live here?”
“They used to,” the troll creaked and spat iron filings at his feet. “Now it’s an office.”