In the deep hush of night on December 20th, Bjúgnakrækir – Sausage-Swiper, slips from the mountain shadows of Iceland. Agile as a winter fox, he prowls rafters and smoke-houses, plucking curing sausages from their hooks with silent, uncanny grace.

Though a master thief, his fierce love for his savory prizes gives him an oddly endearing charm. And by dawn, when children find the small gift he leaves in return, even the elders smile knowing the nimble spirit of the rafters has passed through in the night.