Christmas
The wanderer sat in a quiet corner of the grand hall of the hold watching the play of starlight on the trees and snow beyond. The holidays were fast upon time and while most in the hold had written their holiday wishes upon their hearts the wanderer was still searching for the perfect holiday wish. So many so much wiser, having all the right words - what gift could she hope to form that would not seem small and trivial or that was not already written. The wanderer had come upon the hold while wandering, not really searching for a place, and had found a warm welcome and love as was hard to find in the world beyond, and so little was asked in return - only that she care. Care she understood - that was easy. Reaching out to offer care to others was a given, for she understood their pain - she could feel it, see the colors it painted upon their souls and knew some of how to ease those colors. Perhaps her wish could be care? But all in the hold knew how to care - that would not do she thought - no - it must be a special gift. She allowed her mind to wander, the wonders she had seen - could she wish them joy? No, they knew joy - it came in fur and feathers and scales and fins, with cold noses and wet sloppy kisses. Perhaps she could wish them love? No, all knew great love past and within the hold - and shared that love freely with all who needed. Should she perhaps wish them Hope? No that would not do - for hope was the soft warm light that lit the hold. As night gave way to dawn the light broke upon the snow filling the hold with millions of tiny rainbows - beautiful symbols of all the hold held dear. Slowly an idea blossomed. I know my wish the wanderer smiled.