A Scribe's Yule

For Marieke's Midwinter Blogfest

Midwinter's day was no different in the life of Otherkin Scribe. She was sitting in her room, and writing down the stories that were told to her, just like any other day of the year. The stories were different, though.

The angels were talking about the good will that enclosed the whole planet into a warm blanket. In spite of all the stress and arguments, small accidents and moments of irritation, there was a will of good, warm thoughts, short smiles that crept on the faces when people saw the beautiful decorations and other people hurrying around with packages and santa caps. People were smiling more, were a bit more open, a bit kinder... it was nice being an angel at Yuletime.

The monsters were talking about the bloodlust, as they always were, but this time it was the lack of it they spoke about, not the urge to kill, maime and torture. A werewolf said that he hadn't been able to kill a rabbit, because it looked so soft and cuddly on the new snow. A vampire told he had started looking at the blood drops on the snow, and how pretty they were, and his victim managed to run away, screaming.

The harpees spoke about decorations and competitions and recipes, who had the best cookie recipe and how much the imported lawn decoration from France had costed. They also brought in decoration to decorate the library, but the Scribe told them to be sure all that would come down before the New Year.

The elves talked about caroling and how people started humming, went home singing along in their heads, and how the carols were designed to bring people Yule spirit. After they left, the Scribe found herself humming the old carols she'd learned as a girl. Then she chuckled for herself and allowed her to sing.

The minotaur coming in next looked at her a bit confused, then smiled and sang the song with her.
"Now stop!" he said and told about how nice it was to just let it all go, drink himself wasted and relax. It was as if his obsessions had left him, and he was kind of happy to be alone.

They all spoke about different things, and all let the Scribe in to their heads and hearts, so she was watching the cuddly little bunny in the moonlit forest, hopping over the square with no fear and no hurry... she felt the silence and peace in the minotaur's head and smiled. She saw all the Christmas decorations, smelled the scents of cinnamon and oranges, tasted the different flavors of Yule food, heard the carols and felt the good will. She remembered her lonely Christmases from time before she was made the Scribe and smiled. It might be just another work day, but it was so much better than anything she had had before.