On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me…
The tone of the bagpipes cut through the crisp clear air and swirled around the couple that were walking through the high snowdrifts.
"Why have you got those God-awful pipes playing?"
"They're an important part o' ma culture laddie!"
Arthur huffed yet snuggled closer to Alasdair who was holding the umbrella over them both.
"Where are we going anyway?"
"You'll see laddie!"
The lake was crisp and clear and perfect in every way. Arthur gasped and his eyes went wide.
"You found it! Oh, Alas… It's wonderful!"
Alasdair leant down and pressed his lips to Arthur's.
"Merry Christmas laddie," he whispered.
…Eleven pipers piping