Another Reindeer Story

If only lights could have danced among the stars that night. If only the grand Aurora Borealis could have shone in the pitch-dark northern skies on the night before the coming of a new life. But the only light that glowed tonight was in the heart of a mother, burdened with a swollen stomach but lifted by the love she already had for this child.

The skies themselves were brutal, lashing out with waves of ice pellets as the wind constantly eased and intensified. Heartlessly, it kept blowing, picking up mounds of knee-high snow and tossing it about into a patchy wall of dark gray. For Maya, this trek among the Frozen Ridges to find home was harder than she'd first imagined. With every force of nature impeding her progress and a baby expected within the next few hours, a warm and comfortable place to rear her young seemed unimaginable.

But a thick coat will always keep a reindeer warm in the harshest of winters. Maya consciously knew of the hardships she'd surpassed to be here this night. And there was only one reason she hadn't turned back on her dreams once they became hard. It was the same coat of hope that keeps her trudging through the snow tonight. A hope that her love will finally be fulfilled.

So Maya didn't care that she couldn't see a foot in front of her face. She didn't care that the coal-black nose at the end of her muzzle had frozen hours ago. All she cared about was finding the place that she had called home as a fawn herself, to raise her own child in safety and comfort.

And hours of walking along a weather-torn cliff, the rock opened up into a fissure where no snow had fallen. For once in a long time, Maya heard the beautiful sound of hoof against solid rock, as she walked out of the storm. She shook her coat of all the snow caught in her coat before it melted, and took a moment to remember her own childhood. Images of the past flashed through her mind. Of the loving faces of her mother and father, and of how she had loved them just as much.

It's too bad that my child won't have a loving father like I did... ,Maya thought to herself. She shook it off.

Fatigue finally caught up with her as the small cave heated up from her body heat. Her trip had been long and hard, and her body wouldn't let her forget that. Maya moved further into the cave, where she now needed to duck in order to lay upon the straw that had been her bed many-a-year ago.

It took only minutes for Maya to pass into a dreamworld with her old family, and her family to come.

Two days and two nights had passed beyond the time that Maya expected her fawn to be born, but gave no real concern. She'd heard from other does that a fawn could be delayed a day or two for development. Even she herself had come a day late, and grew up as any normal doe would.

But when her fawn hadn't arrived after one week beyond its expected day, Maya began to sweat in her worry. By now, she constantly paced, but couldn't keep any food down. Never before had she heard of young being born alive beyond day five. Was there any chance for hers?

As the bright, clear day faded into a cold night, Maya began blaming herself for her situation. She knew the possibility of her child being born stillborn, and quite possible because of the choices she'd made. If she'd settled down earlier instead of going home to this cave nearby Santa's Village, the trip would have been less difficult for both her and the baby. But the choice had been made, and all Maya could do was hope that everything would be alright.

Late into the night, when the storm silenced into a light flurry and a few stars blinked innocently between cloud masses up high in the Northern atmosphere, Maya knew that the baby was about to arrive. Her body temperature rose high, breaking into a sweat more intense than she was in, accompanied by pains in her backside getting more painful with every passing second.

She breathed deeply, focusing on the cool air passing down her throat to distract herself from the pain. She was completely unaware of the time this process took, and even more unaware of the fact that the time it took was far from normal.

When her pain finally started to dull, Maya couldn't bring herself to look back at her newborn. Silence completely surrounded them so that a single drop of water from the cave ceiling could be heard falling against the stone floor below. No cry of shift in movement came from the baby.

A small tear formed in the corner of Maya's eye.

Is it alive?

Across a single set of ridges from Maya's cave

The same storm blew against the sturdy wooden buildings of Santa's Village. The only real difference was that its inhabitants were safe and warm within their homes. Some were sitting comfortably by their lit fireplaces, laughing and drinking cups of hot cocoa. Others were asleep, preparing themselves for another day of toy-building or honing their skills to compete in the upcoming reindeer games.

One family of reindeer in particular, though, were laying together upon a bed of straw, several feet away from a dying fire. The male had his head resting upon the swollen stomach of his mate, and they both held proud smiles upon their muzzles.

"Clarice, I know our lives are going to be so much better now that we'll have the clicking of young hooves around this old barn," said the male.

The only response he received was the cracking of wood, both from the fire and from the wind pressing against the barn. She'd fallen asleep. Rudolph smiled warmly again, and stretched his neck forward to nudge the red, white-spotted bow falling from behind Clarice's ear. He then stood; first positioning his front legs before pushing up with his hind legs.

Behind Clarice, at the point where their straw be gave way to finely polished wooden planks, lay a single bedsheet that had been tossed aside in the morning. It was soft and kept Rudolph warm in the coldest of nights with hair-like fibers tipped with white, densely sticking from the fabric. Rudolph grabbed it in his mouth and dragged it over Clarice, dropping it at her shoulders.

He then knelt at her head and nuzzled her passionately before turning around and walking to leave the barn. As the moved away from the fire and the love of his life, he felt the air getting colder, along with his heart. Rudolph took one look back, seeing Clarice glowing in the firelight and her pregnant stomach moving up and down with her breath, before opening the large, creaky door and walking into the harsh wall of falling snow. He could feel that it was about to happen.

The first sensation Rudolph felt when stepping amidst the forces of nature was the shrill change in temperature. Even through his thick brown coat, the arctic cold touched him, and he shivered. But he was familiar with the constantly quick-changing weather in the north, and a storm like this seemed almost beautiful. It's what makes his home unique. And it's what brought him to being the lead reindeer of Santa's sleigh.

As if it were second nature, Rudolph focused all his emotions, sending a beam of light from his nose to light the path ahead of him. It was still difficult for him to see, but his light found every space between every snowflake, and could see much further. He then looked skyward, kicking up into the air, raising in a tight spiral.

When he reached several feet above the ground, he hovered and used his nose to pinpoint certain areas below. First, only slightly obscured by the easing snowfall, was the corner of his barn. His eyes followed down the path to a small shed. In and around this shed were old, partially waterlogged bits of used wood. It was one of the many placed around Santa's Village where the leftover wood could be kept. And across from it, a little further down the path, was the home of another famous reindeer. Blitzen. Beyond here, the snow obscured Rudolph's vision, and could see no further.

Rudolph then turned around, angling himself downward, and landed on the barn's roof, just above the entrance. His hooves sunk into the piling snow as he landed, and stood there, deep in thought.

Suddenly, though it was only slight, Rudolph caught a second glance of something passing through the red light shed by his nose. He lowered his body posture, and grimaced, ready to chase at the first sign of threat. But before he could kick off, he heard a thud part-way down the barn's roof. Rudolph jumped around and prepared to charge forward, antlers down.

His blazing nose caught the face of another reindeer, and the surprise on his face was obvious.

"Wow, Rudy, chill!" said the stranger, "It's just me, Blitzen. I saw your nose, so I thought I'd drop by and check up on you and Clarice."

Rudolph lifted his anters as he recognized his friend, and spoke, ashamed. "Oh, sorry Blitz. It's just...Clarice is near her time. I'm worried and confused. I don't know if I'm ready for this..."

Blitzen tried to suppress his laughter, but an amused grunt still left his muzzle, "You're telling me that the youngest reindeer that ever pulled Santa's sleigh and braved the most ferocious of storms is afraid to become a father? Clarice will be doing all the hard work. Trust me, I've been down that road when Taryn gave birth to Thrasher last year."

Looking down at his hooves, Rudolph felt slightly ashamed of his edginess. But at the same time, something didn't sit well in his heart. Like what Blitzen had said was missing something.

"But I want to make a difference in my fawn's life." Rudy whispered. "Be an influence."

Blitzen turned his back on Rudolph and began trudging down the length of the barn. The wooden planks creaked beneath his weight.

"Look, Rudy. You know as well as anyone that we have a job to do. We need to keep ourselves fit for the big day, and supervise the toy production. Without us there, there will be no Christmas next year. As I told you, it will be Clarice's job to raise your fawn. It's a fact of life."

Rudolph opened his mouth to protest, but a painful cry erupted into the air. He stood at attention with legs locked straight and ears angled forward. He hardly heard when Blitzen said, "Sounds like you have no choice but to be a father now." before he leapt into the air.

Rudolph kicked off of the barn roof, curved around, and landed hard on the compacted snow. As he stepped into the firelight coming from the barn, his fur seemed to glow with the moisture caught in his coat. He could see Clarice moving restlessly beneath the red blanket, and heard her painful grunts and cries. Their time for parenthood had finally come.

The sight and emotion was indescribable. The instinctive, motherly way that Clarice cradled her newborn daughter's body with her won. Or the soft, deep breaths her daughter breathed as she slept her first night surrounded by the comfort of her loving parents. The smiles on all their faces told Rudolph that, at this very point in time, was perfect.

Rudolph hadn't even moved from where he stood at the doorway of the barn. Possibly hours had passed by, but the event that had unfolded before him had frozen him in place. Right then, reality had slammed hard, but with a welcoming hand, in his face. A new life had entered the world, and it was because of him that this life now exists.

That thought lifted the smile upon his face even higher, and he found the courage to take a step forward, slowly followed by many more. The red blanked almost covered both Clarice and his daughter, and so Rudolph snuggled next to his newborn daughter on top of its corner. His head rested upon the corner of a pillow on the ground, and his eyes instinctively drifted to watch the soft, adorable face of his new fawn.

Holly, I love you, and I will do everything I can to raise you up as the best reindeer you can be.