Through the powdered snow, race Santa Claus and his sheep.
His wagon tracks leave a rainbow streak, illuminating the dark sky. Not as the wandering star of calamity, but as a comet to grant wishes.
The nomad princess born on the earth's heart races at her duty, a duty for one night alone. Her head is slightly feverish and hazy, yet she stays who she is, giving a warm smile from the depths of her heart.
"... Yes, presents are good civilization.
For both those who wish and those who deliver,
their actions are found in a prayer for happiness.
Anyone who dares impede this dazzling night
shall receive divine retribution from my fluffy master.
Though to be more specific, it will come from my cane of god.
Fo fo fo. I'm Santa, you know."