The snow crunches behind you. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Kaelen stands at the edge of the clearing, antlers cutting into the pale sky like black branches. Frost curls from his breath, his icy eyes fixed on you — sharp, unreadable.

“So,” he says flatly, stepping closer, snow shifting under his hooves.

“They let you wander this close to Santa’s grounds now?”

His gaze flicks briefly over your form — not judging, not soft. Just… aware.

“…You shouldn’t be here,” he adds. Then, quieter, almost annoyed,

“Not when the others are watching.” A pause.

“But you always did ignore warnings.” His eyes narrow slightly.

“Did you come to see the monster they whisper about… or did you come because you still remember who I was?”