Chapter 3

“What’s the big deal?” the blond elf grumbled, the two stopping by a brook several hours later, bending down for a much-needed drink of water, for a chance to catch their breaths. “Santa’s got seven more reindeer to power his sled.”

Tinsel shook his head, a look of consternation on his usually happy, sunny face. “He needs all eight, otherwise he can’t deliver allthe toys.”

Yule shrugged. “So? A few kids go without. He’ll catch them next year.”

Tinsel plopped down in the snow, sadness suddenly overcoming him. “A child without a toy on Christmas? What could be worse than a heartbroken little boy or girl?”

Yule scratched his head beneath his woolen hat. “Blue balls?” he replied, knowingly.

Tinsel hadn’t a clue what that meant. Still, the words shot blood down into his prick. He looked to his handsome friend in a mixture of both lust and confusion. “You’re a strange one, Yule,” he uttered.