Claire was dead. Spoilers, by the way, not that anyone's keeping up with the Sillyverse, but for those of you who care or have otherwise not heard, Claire was dead, and had been dead for quite some time. Slightly over a year, I mean. Anyway, she was dead as a door-nail, which is a fucking weird simile that probably has some obscure origin that know-it-alls will recite unprompted to provide their collection of knowledge with the appearance of a wider girth. In case you were wondering, the expression probably refers to the fact that door-nails are unusable after their initial insertion, as they are bent out of shape during the process. Riveting.

Rather, Claire was dead as a dodo, but her presence was expected by one specific individual, who had anticipated her arrival throughout all of Christmas Eve, and who was currently waiting for her to show up on the day following.

Christmas.

In case you didn't know.

While the more sensible persons among her circle of companions enjoyed each other's company, she sat waiting at the door, like some poor, forgotten dog. She jumped at each noise and peeked through the peephole with pricked ears, but was disappointed every time.

"I'm starting to think she won't come. What'll I do?"

Why don't you join us?

"WHAT?!"

"I said 'Why don't you join us?'," said an ebony stegoceratops.

The dragon at the door sighed sadly.

"Oh. I thought you were the narrator."

"Aren't you?"

"I am, but I was hoping that something magical would happen last-minute, and I'd embark on a thrilling adventure because of some mystery narrator, who would turn out to be Claire in the end."

"She hasn't come yet, huh?"

"Not to me. What about you?"

"No one's seen her. I hate to say it, Elkay, but I don't think she's coming. Not that it makes a difference, since she's dead. We're lucky to even expect her at all."

"But why won't she visit us?" the dragon persisted, "We spent Christmas together when she was alive, so why would she be held back by a little thing like the cold embrace of death?"

"Well . . ."

"She's probably just waiting. You know: for dramatic effect. I mean, I was expecting her to come last night, since it was Christmas Eve and all, but midnight came and went, even when taking different time zones into account."

The stegoceratops' jaw dropped.

"You mean you waited here all night?!"

"Of course."

"You should have come to the party. We missed you. I mean, I assumed you just didn't want to be around people, but if you were sitting here alone, you should have celebrated-"

"Not without Claire."

The dinosaur cocked her head sadly.

"Elkay . . ."

"She's coming. She has to come. It's Christmas."

"For an hour longer, yes. Maybe she wants you to have fun without her."

"No. We always do Christmas stories together. Last time, we did Die Hard."

"Is that why that poor Troödon's feet were so messed-up during the holidays?"

"Well, obviously. I wasn't about to walk across broken glass alone. I'm pretty light to carry. Lighter than humans, in fact. I don't know why he was so upset about it."

"Probably because you made him walk on glass shards? . . ."

"It's a mystery. Anyway, I was hoping she'd come late at night and do some sort of Christmas story with me, since there's a lot to cover in the holiday genre. We haven't even done Polar Express yet."

"I don't like that movie."

"Why not? Is it the creepy motion capture?"

"No. I'm just not keen on the idea of being shipped to an unfamiliar location via train."

"The North Pole is far more whimsical than concentration camps. Except maybe the Canadian ones."

"For the last time, that was a Zellers."

"Could'a fooled me."

The dinosaur sighed deeply.

"Do you want me to wait with you, at least?"

"You think you can handle it?"

"There's only an hour left. Less."

"Alright, Penny. You can stay with me while I wait for Claire."

She sat down. They stared at the door.

And stared.

And stared some more.

After a moment, Penumbra yawned.

A few moments later, Elkay scratched her ear.

"Kinda late, isn't she?"

"Yup."

They waited.

And waited.

Penumbra stretched her front legs and lay on her belly.

They continued to wait.

And wait.

A half-hour passed.

Still, they waited.

Then Elkay began to sniffle.

It took a while for Penumbra to notice what was going on, and she did a double take when she realized what was happening, but sure enough, the dragon's snout was crumpled up, and she was breathing unevenly through a quivering beak. Her ears were twitching, turned back in a display of anxiety. It wasn't long before both ears drooped, hanging beside her cheeks like deflated balloons.

"She's not coming, is she?"

"I'm sure she didn't mean to leave you alone."

"How could she forget me? It's Christmas! I understand why she didn't show up last year, since I wasn't narrating at the time, but now that I'm recovering from that episode . . . I WANT CLAIRE!"

"Maybe she didn't want to come because she knew she couldn't give attention to all of her friends equally."

"But she spent time with me when she was alive . . ."

"Yes, but think of how much she's missed. Catching up would take ages."

"She watches us. She knows. She could spend time with everyone if she really wanted to."

"I'm sure she wants to, but just can't."

"Is she in trouble?"

"I hope not. What I meant to say is that Claire has her reasons for doing what she does, and difficult though it may be, we have to learn to live without her."

This only made the dragon cry more. She sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until the carpet was wet with tears. Penumbra tried to comfort her, but her desperate hugs had no effect. Finally, she decided to leave . . . but came back soon after with a sheet draped over her head. Elkay blinked and wiped her nostrils. The dinosaur lifted her arms clumsily.

"Whooooooooo . . . I am the-"

"The Ghost of Christmas Past?" she finished.

"How did you know?"

"Because you're super old."

"Gee. Thanks."

"You don't look it, though. What have you come to show me, Spirit?"

"Memories of past Christmases."

"Okay, but you haven't been given narrative powers. You know that, right?"

"I . . . Can't you just show yourself memories?"

"That'll only make me sadder."

"Oh."

She pattered away, sheet dragging behind her. The dragon turned her focus to the entrance once more, but jumped when a cheerful voice boomed behind her . . . Or at least tried to boom, since Penumbra couldn't pull off a convincing baritone. She waddled forward with a pillow stuffed in her dress and an unconvincing beard hanging precariously from her new front horn.

"Ho, ho, ho! I'm the ghost of-"

"Black Santa?"

"Pardon."

"Black Santa. Santa Claus is black, you know. Claire met him once. I was hoping he'd cameo at some point, but I guess he has other plans. Did you know his wife is Asian?"

"What."

"I know, it's weird, right? I asked him why, and he was all like 'What do you mean: "Why is Mrs. Claus Asian?"? Why is anyone anything? Why are YOU a dragon?!', and I was like 'Because it symbolizes greed or something'- Wait, am I thinking of Norwegians?"

"I . . . I don't . . ."

"Anyway, now I'm banned from his workshop."

"Do . . . Do interracial relationships not exist in Asterpara? . . ."

"I fucked a tiger."

". . . Oh."

She trotted away, bewildered. Elkay fluttered her wings irritably, then resumed her post.

After a few minutes, an ominous figure appeared. It was shrouded in black robes, and its face was obscured by a hood. Elkay sighed deeply and rolled her eyes.

"Well, at least you found a half decent costume, this time."

Penumbra stumbled out of the closet wrapped in a tablecloth.

"What are you talking about? It's just a- Who's that?"

Without wasting a second, Elkay bolted. She left a dragon-shaped hole in the doorway, but scarcely had time to notice as she plowed through the snow. The dark figure followed, floating above the wintery landscape like a sinister phantom, though Elkay much preferred actual phantoms to this nightmare, annoying as they were during the holidays.

"Help! Help! I'm being chased!"

Her plea was awkwardly phrased, but worse still, it was entirely futile, as the only beings capable of assisting her were flying thousands of miles above the sea, spouting ice from their maws to add to the festive atmosphere- and besides, they were her parents, so they wouldn't rush to her aid even if they had been aware of her peril.

She leapt and ducked and skittered in panic, but the figure soared gracefully in her wake, and soon drew near. As she looked back, Elkay made the mistake of stumbling over a log, and was soon overtaken by the predator. As she screamed and writhed in the snow, the shadow pinned her down. After a brief struggle, the specter finally managed to lift its hood. Elkay froze, then pounced upon it with glee.

"CLAIRE!"

The glowing figure smiled as she was lifted into a warm hug.

"I sure gave you a fright. I didn't mean to scare you, but I have to admit, it was a little funny."

Meanwhile, Penumbra had caught up, and was thrilled to learn the identity of the mysterious ghost.

"Claire, you came!"

"Of course I came," she beamed, "I wouldn't have left you two alone this holiday season. I had business during Christmas, as you can imagine, but I'm going to be staying for the next three days to make up for it, and for last year, too."

Elkay squealed with delight. Claire laughed and pulled something from behind her back.

"Before we meet up with the others, I want to make sure that we keep up our tradition. We have fifteen minutes. Just enough time for a short story."

Elkay beamed when she saw that Claire had brought a toilet brush. Penumbra wondered if she had missed something. Before she could think about it for too long, the dragon bounded away, followed by the glowing spirit.

"See you later, Penny! We're gonna learn a Christmas lesson!"

She smiled as the two of them left. The wind carried flakes of dragon-ice her way. It was nice to have a white Christmas, scarce as they were due to climate change. Taking a deep breath, she let the snow fall on her face.

"Thank you."

Remember, no dragon is a failure who has friends.