It is a bleak, cold night in QueerClan. A heavy fog blankets the camp, but none of the cats' moods are dampened. None of them, that is, except for Straightfur and Transpants. No one is surprised by Transpants, since he has never liked Christmas as much as the others. However, Straightfur is moodier than normal. This worries Aceface and Gayday, who, despite their constant annoyance of Straightfur, do care about him. So, as the others are sleeping, they are meeting in the medicine cat den to come up with a plan.

Aceface holds up a lily, with pink-tipped petals and black spots around the center. When eaten, it can be poisonous to cats. But it has other effects, one of which might be the only thing to help Straightfur.

"Do you remember this, Gayday? It's a dream lily," she mews. The brown tabby tom nods, and sits down in front of her.

"Are you sure about this, Aceface? Last time we did this, with Transpants, he was obsessed with oranges for a moon," Gayday warns. Aceface sets the lily down in front of him, and nods once.

"This time will be different, Gayday. Remember, you have to whisper 'Christmas' in his ear, not 'citrus', or any other word. Otherwise, his dreams won't be focused on the magic of Christmas," Aceface replies. Gayday nods seriously, and takes the lily. Then he pads out of the medicine cat den, and through the chilling fog towards the warriors den.

When he arrives, Gayday stops in front of Straightfur's nest. The black and white tom is sleeping peacefully, and is undisturbed by Gayday's presence. Gayday sets the lily down in front of his nose, and bends down so his muzzle is hovering over the other tom's ear.

"Hissmas. No, wait, that's wrong! Christmas. Yes, Christmas," Gayday whispers. "There we go. Just a minor slip up. What could possibly go wrong?" Then he settles down in his nest, and falls asleep. Moments later, Straightfur's ear begins to twitch. Then, he begins to dream.

The environment of the dream created by the dream lily is almost exactly the same as the one in reality. The only difference is that the fog is thicker, and the camp is arranged differently as well. Straightfur wakes up in the same place that the warriors den was in, except a new den has taken its place. The den has two rooms, the larger one containing his nest. When he looks into the smaller room, he only sees a dark brown tabby tail twitching back and forth. An odd clicking sound can be heard, which confuses Straightfur. He stands up and pads into the second room, only to see Queerdeer sitting on the floor, sorting rainbow colored shells.

"Queerdeer? What in StarClan are you doing?" he asks. The tabby tom looks up from his shells, and sets one aside.

"I'm organizing your shells, Straightfur. Flagswag just dropped off her latest payment," Queerdeer explains. Straightfur walks over to the pile of shells on the floor, and examines them. They're extremely vibrant, and Straightfur is immediately overcome with a sense of joy at seeing them.

"They are quite beautiful, Queerdeer, although I have no clue why you're doing this. And why is the den like this? Where is everyone?" Straightfur asks. Queerdeer opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off by a familiar orange tabby walking towards the den through the fog.

"Merry Christmas, Straightfur!" Arosparrow calls, as he sticks his head into the den. "Isn't it a beautiful day today? I love Christmas Eve!" Straightfur is confused by this. He had gone to sleep on Christmas Eve, so shouldn't it be Christmas Morning? He looks around at the foggy, bleak landscape, then turns back to Arosparrow.

"Not really, Arosparrow. But I guess it's different for cats who are looking forward to Christmas," Straightfur replies gloomily. Arosparrow takes no note of his comment, and remains cheerful.

"It sure is, Straightfur! Anyways, I was wondering if you'd want to come share prey with me and my mate tonight. It is Christmas Eve, after all," Arosparrow mews. Straightfur gapes at his friend, completely and utterly shocked.

"You're aromantic!" Straightfur cries out, grasping for words. "You - what - I - I don't understand!" Arosparrow's face falls, and nods a few times.

"Okay, I get it. You're a busy cat. Well, maybe next time," Arosparrow concludes. Then he pads back into the fog, leaving Straightfur still confused. Straightfur turns to Queerdeer, who has returned to counting shells.

"Queerdeer, what just happened? Arosparrow doesn't have a mate, and besides, he's aromantic!" Straightfur exclaims. Queerdeer chuckles a bit, and nods.

"Oh, yes. He meant his denmate. He shares a den with Nondawn. You know this, Straightfur. After all, you are the one who rents them their den," the brown tabby explains. Straightfur is about to explode with frustration at this point. No one will give him a straight answer, and nothing here makes sense. Then, two more cats appear from the fog.

"Merry Christmas, Straightfur. How are you?" Nondawn calls. Straightfur is still fuming, as Fluidstream comes into view as well.

"Yes, always a time for giving. Speaking of which, Straightfur, your old denmate Transpants used to always give shells for Christmas," Fluidstream greets. He, for Straightfur can tell that Fluidstream is currently a he, motions towards the pile that Queerdeer is sorting.

"Fluidstream is the president of the Shells for Hope foundation," Nondawn adds. "We collect shells and distribute them to the poor, especially during Christmas." This latest mention of Christmas is what breaks Straightfur.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF CHRISTMAS!" Straightfur yowls, visibly fuming. Nondawn backs away, as the black and white tom continues his rant. "No one will give me an answer about anything, everything is confusing, and the only thing you cats can talk about is CHRISTMAS!"

Fluidstream glares at Straightfur, and pulls Nondawn back out of the den. "Fine, Straightfur. If you didn't want to give, you could have just said so. We're leaving." The two charitable cats depart into the fog, leaving Straightfur alone with Queerdeer again.

Straightfur whirls back towards Queerdeer, breathing heavily after his outburst. The brown tom glances up at him, but continues his sorting.

"Queerdeer, what is happening? This all just seems like some sort of weird -" Straightfur cuts himself off, and lets out an ecstatic giggle. "Of course! This is all just a dream! Why didn't I think of this sooner?"

"I don't know, boss, but would you mind giving me the day off tomorrow if that's the case? I might just be a part of your dream, but I still have a mate and kits, you know?" Queerdeer asks hopefully. Straightfur lets out an exhausted sigh, and nods in agreement.

"Of course, Queerdeer. I think I'm going to go take a nap now. Feel free to leave whenever you feel like it," Straightfur mews tiredly. Then he pads back into the first room of the den, lays down in his nest, and falls asleep.

A while later, after Queerdeer has already left for the day, Straightfur wakes up to the sound of crunching outside of his den. He shoots out of his nest, and unsheathes his claws.

"Who's there?" he calls, voice quivering with fear. The crunching just gets louder, and a howling wind blows through the den. Straightfur closes his eyes against the wind, until finally, it stops. Then he opens them, only to see a cream-furred tom with a starry pelt in front of him.

"Transpants? What in StarClan's name are you doing?" Straightfur cries, having recognized the other tom. Then he sees the twigs scattered along the tom's pelt in odd shapes. "Get those stupid twigs off of you. What are they even supposed to be?"

"They're chains, alright! I'm supposed to look scary and foreboding! Why does no one find me scary, even in their weird, convoluted dreams! And no, I WILL NOT TELL YOU WHAT IS IN MY PANTS!" by this time, the tom is bristling with anger, causing Straightfur to take a few steps back.

". . . A-alright dude, no need to get so worked up about it," Straightfur mumbles. Transpants is seemingly happy about the fear he instilled in Straightfur, and calms down enough to sit down in front of him.

"Listen, Straightfur. I am dead in this dream, and apparently greedy, although you are supposed to be more so," Transpants begins to explain, "three spirits will come visit you tonight, and you will listen to them, or else you'll end up sad and covered in twig chains like me".

"What is the point of this, Transpants?" Straightfur asks, confounded. He isn't a greedy cat, and the only reason that he didn't give shells to Fluidstream and Nondawn was because they left after his outburst about Christmas.

"Well, I think the whole point was to get you back in the Christmas spirit. But it's not just Christmas, is it, Straightfur?" Transpants replies, sounding surprisingly full of wisdom. Straightfur shakes his head, focusing his gaze on the ground.

"Sometimes I wonder if things would have been better for everyone if I had just been born queer like the others," he murmurs. Transpants comfortingly sets his tail on Straightfur's shoulder, until a loud bell sound rings throughout the den.

"I'm sorry, Straightfur. But that isn't true. I'll get them to show you why," he tells the other tom. Then, Transpants disappears into the fog, leaving Straightfur alone.

Written by Mack
Edited by August and Moon