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From Snitter-

The wind howled eerily through the high mountains and whipped harshly against the face of a handsome young hare, who sat on a ledge that projected from a tall clif, trying to restart a small fire. The hare blinked frost out of his eyes and sighed. It was no use trying to start the fire until he had some more firewood, and he would not have that until his companion returned.
The hare sat back and, taking out a knife and a small piece of wood from the pocket of his cloak, began to idly carve and ponder his life.
What was he, Breccails, doing out here on Christmas eve, in the middle of nowhere, freezing atop a cliff? He wasn't sure. He shivered and thought of how he had spent this night in the past.
He remembered how, when he was a tiny leveret, he'd spent the holiday in Salamandastron. He remembered how all the hares would sit down to a feast and scoff themselves silly, (and when three-hundred hares sit down to a feast, you know it's serious business. Famines have, after all, been caused by the consumption of less food than they tucked away.) how the older hares would tell the little ones tales of great battles (and great feasts), how they would give each other little gifts and trinkets. It had been a wonderful time.
And then, several seasons later, he had come to Redwall. Ah Redwall! Now those beasts knew how to make a feast! All the hustle and bustle of preparations seemed like no trouble at all when they finally sat down to eat. Breccalis had only lived there for three seasons, but he had already come to think of it as 'home'.
Of course, thought Breccalis, as a wood shaving curled along the edge of the slowly moving knife, a home was determined by the creatures who lived in it. And for Breccalis, home was wherever Snitter was. To him, she was more than a friend. She was like family, like a mother and a sister. And more than that, too. She was-
"Whooohoo! I tell ya Brecc, it's cold enough to freeze yer bally taIl off!
Frith in a fishbowl, it must be, like, a hundred below!" -She was standing behind him shaking snow off her ears onto his head.
"Glad you're back." Said Breccalis, giving her a weak grin. "I was beginning to wonder if the snowgoons had got you."
"Naw, I was too quick for th' snowgoons. It was the icemonkeys that gave me a th' trouble." She said this so matter-of-factly that it was hard to tell whether she was joking or not. And that was fine with Breccalis because it was one of the things he loved about her.
"Did you get some fire wood?" Asked Breccalis.
"Sure 'nough." She said, pulling the bundle off her back. "An' it took me a jolly long time ta find it, too."
Soon, as it got dark out, they had a reasonable fire going and they cooked a small stew with some sried berries and roots they'd found.
"Hey Snitter," said Breccalis after they'd finished supper, "Wot do you suppose they're doing at Redwall right now?"
Snitter picked a small root fiber out of her teeth and answered, "I a'spect they're sittin' around a fireplace, tellin' stories 'bout the warriors of old, finishin' up the remains of supper, (she licked her lips), and generally havin' a grand ol' time."
Breccalis leaned back against the rock and folded his arms behind his head. "Yeah. Don't you ever miss it?"
Snitter shrugged. "I'm daft as a brush, Breckie me ol' soupspoon. I'm as much at home in a leather boot with a hole in the toe as I am in a gully in the floor. Yeah, I kinda miss it a bit, though. I miss the pies, anyhoo."
Okay, here it is!


Breccalis thought about that for a moment then discovered it mad ehis head hurt. He reached into the wide sleeve of his shirt and pulled out a small object. "Well, be that as it may, they all give gifts at Chirstmas. I made this'n' for you."
Snitter took the little wooden carving. It was finely carved in the rather elongated shape of some sort of rodent with small, blue stones set in the eyes. it had a row of small holes along the back and a hole in the tip of the tail and in the mouth. "Why, it's a flute!" She exclaimed.
Breccalis grinned, letting his left ear flop down over his eye. "You like it?"
Snitter hugged him tight. "Brecc, you ol' flop-eared weasel-whopper, you're the best!" She suddenly stopped and rummaged around in her small satchel. "Oh! I found somethin' fer you, too!"
She came up with a large clamshell that had been cleaned out. She opened it and showed it to him. "See? It's a spiffin' great pearl! Took me forever to find it!"
Breccalis accepted to gift with a grin. "So that's what you were up to."
He gave her a hug. "Happy Christmas, Snits."
"An' a Happy Christmas to you, too, Brecc ol' chum."
Together they sat and stared into the starry, infinite darkness of the wintry night, which somehow didn't seem so cold when shared with a friend.

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