Christmas was coming in only a few hours, and Burgess was coated in snow. People sludged through the snow grumpily... or, at least, adults did. The kids loved it, making snow angels everywhere they could, and leaving snowmen in their wake like orphaned children, left to smile on the street corners, vacantly. Everyone was hurrying to get home before dark.
The soft meowing of a kitten sounded in an alley, as a small group of them chased each other in the snow, batting at loose candy wrappers, and dead leaves left over from Autumn. They were having the time of their lives, and didn't even feel the cold.
They were mutts, kittens born to a mother who only stayed long enough to nurse them, but they seemed alright enough for it. They had a warm place to sleep behind the bakery, and the old woman who ran the ovens later in the evenings gave them water and warm batter to lap.
Their leader was a white kitten, who never came in with them: the other kittens didn't really notice this, being at an age where all they cared about or though of was food, warmth, and playtime. Their lives were simple, and nothing was noticed by them that didn't directly involve them.
But one person noticed, and was gently wiggling cool fingertips at the kittens; Jack Frost, the eternal Winter sprite. He was watching the kittens play, and chuckling softly, letting them bat at his cold fingers, their small noises of confusion at his icy skin making him chuckle.
Tonight was December 24th, and tomorrow would be the biggest day in all the America's: kids would be waking up, presents would be unwrapped, and cries of joy echoing... it would be wonderful.
He'd watch, of course: the laughter of children made him feel lighter, stronger. As part of his very being, the happiness of children was all he needed.
But, for now, there was the snow, the kittens, the night, and the waiting Christmas morning.
He glanced up at a loud noise; overhead, Santa Clause, also know as North,rattled through the sky in his sleigh, landing on the first house of the neighborhood. He stepped out, his bag bulging over with toys and games.
Jack bent a little, hiding behind the trashcans: he didn't want to be seen by any of the Guardians right now... he just wanted to play with the kittens, and wait out the night, until the brisk dawn of Christmas broke.
But, as much as he wanted that, the kittens all ran off, meowing and prancing, off to eat and then to bed.
The only one that stayed was the white one... the one of ice. It's name was Snowflake, and Jack had been with him for several years, after he'd died as a living kitten. Jack had always considered it to be a gift from the Man in The Moon, but couldn't ever confirm it.
What ever it was, Snowflake was Jack's only friend in the cold night, and it was all he needed.
"Come here..." He whispered, holding out his hand: Snowflake pranced to him, and purred, rubbing against his fingers.
"It'll be morning... we should get going, huh? Jamie wakes early, and his mom got him the new video game."
Snowflake didn't reply, of course, merely purred. Jack smiled, holding him close.
But, then, as he noticed the first spear of light in the sky, Jack tucked Snowflake into the back of his sweater, pulled his hood up to protect him from the winds, and stepped into the air, whooping. Snowflake rested against the back of his neck, and fell asleep, as Jack flew into the light of the new, bright, Christmas dawn.