’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the snow, not a creature was stirring—except puppies below, their paws pattering softly on frost-dusted floors, noses pressed to the glass as they watched flakes outdoors; the fire crackled warmly while tails gave a thump, dreams of treats and of sleigh bells made each small heart jump, and nestled together in blankets they lay, with snowy fur sparkling in firelight’s sway, as outside the world hushed beneath winter’s embrace and inside the puppies drifted to sleep, safe, content, and wrapped in Christmas grace.
Stake: tahawkin