Cree wasn’t the most agreeable person but he was easy enough to like. His smiling face brought a cheer that should be seen at this time of the year on everyone’s faces. His smile offered hope and prosperity, generosity and good will.

He was weaving through the light poles that lined the winding path through the park wearing that very smile. Keeping warm seemed to be a small feat for him as he was dressed in light blue denim with holes through the knees, rain boots as a substitute for snow boots, and a tee shirt beneath a thick gray hoodie. The hood was up and one his slim hands was tucked away in a pair of black gloves and the pocket of the hoodie. The other grasped the handle of a bucket which had six buckets inside of it each different size. From his back pocket a pair of drum sticks stuck out like a banner. His hair was shaved nearly bald and his skin was nearly to color of the fresh snow. He was short and delicate and might be mistaken for a female from behind.

Cree’s steps were deliberate and purposeful, giving a sense that he’d been placed on earth specifically so he could take these steps in this pattern in this very park at precisely this time in the evening. Perhaps he was. A melodic sound vibrated from his chest and made itself heard in a sweet, seasonal tune. It sounded very ... Christmas-y though if one were to try to figure out exactly what jingle it belonged to, they would find that it was impossible to place it because it was a tune of his own.