Yule Dawn

And the Yule log which sat upon the hearth ‘neath the rotund Kringlesque form did crackle and blaze, reminding the proud pine adorned in the corner of her two possible fates: parceled to burn or carved into crosses....Ho Ho Ho, cried the invader as he burst into flame. It was as if the sun were rising in the east and west at once, and she knew this was her only chance to make a run for it. The door was open. Outside the snow fell like ash, splintering the morning light into planks of a temporary bridge leading to the mountains of her kin.