Short Stories
 | Warmth"Lifting a paw, Velserica wipes at her plush brow. Her sister’s protests fall mostly on deaf ears as she readies the tool in her grasp and swings it down once again, splitting another log in half..."
by annananana |  | A Spooky Christmas LessonHow do you bring spooky season to joyful season? By spreading spooky joy, of course.
by surging |  | Many A Reason For The Season "This time of year has many a meaning to all. So do the other holidays. I sit here with my hopes and dreams furthering into the New Year. I have so many people who mean the world to me. As my Green Xweetok hands type this out, I cannot help but feel my heart fill up with love..."
by harvestmoon66 |  | A Hero's Journey: The Lost Day of Giving"The White Blumaroo grinned crookedly as though he had a trick up his sleeve, folding his arms across his chest almost to add to that effect."
by precious_katuch14 |  | A Brynnso Christmas 10-Year Anniversary Special!"After their contractually obligated off-year, Hanso and Brynn return to the stage in the Hidden Tower, where Christmas-themed plays are considered a staple around this time of year."
by rielcz |  | The Emerald Deep"Snow. How quaint a sight. How it glows in the light of the full moon. In my arms, a bundle of blankets stirs and a little face, that of a..."
by parody_ham |  | Reina's Hijinks: The Story of the Advent Calendar "Pae the Purple Peophin announced happily to her fellow companion Cherry the Biscuit Chia. The two met up at Terror Mountain to collect their prizes together..."
by chemical_nova |  | I'll Be Home for Christmas"Pyland winced at the surprisingly bright morning light reflecting off the fresh dusting snow as he padded out into the garden of his family’s Neohome. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed..."
by citybound |
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"The Emerald Deep" by parody_ham
Snow. How quaint a sight. How it glows in the light of the full moon. In my arms, a bundle of blankets stirs and a little face, that of a bleary-eyed Baby Eyrie, pokes up as if to question the fuss around him. Why his mother sang such a haunting tune, or his father surrounded them with a ring of makeshift candles. We decorated a juniper tree with ornaments made of hardtack, red berries, and garlands of moss—such, my partner, Mariana, informed me, was a holiday tradition of Meridell. What they called “The Day of Giving.” We of the Citadel called it the Day of Darkness. Mariana, the Moon’s Rising. A time of reflection, of hope, of new beginnings. Setarian’s first of many, or so we wished. Looking back, it’s fitting that I met Mariana during the Month of Collecting. Fall colours—something I had not experienced until the Great War—swirled around me like things possessed. Aimlessly wandering, fallen from their tree on high to the dusty ground below. I felt their sorrow, knowing that I, too, could never find comfort from the branches above me. A Darigan, fallen. Leaving my family, my friends, and my life behind, for the hope that isolation could bring me peace of mind. Knowing full well that if I returned there, I would be branded one of Kass’ defectors, one of the thorns he had sworn to pluck from the vine.
Other Stories
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 The Sleepers of Saint Garfir
"The trees grew so densely together that all signs of Saint Garfir had long vanished behind them. The ginger plant was a compass in Miphie’s hand. Roots entwined with..."
by josephinefarine |
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