I couldn't feel cold anymore. I had been running through it for too long to feel anything. I couldn't remember what warmth felt like; I hadn't been properly warm since I had left my mother and Kota found me, high up in a birch tree. That felt so long ago, and yet it had only been about a week. Was it longer? I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember much.

The best way to describe being a chaser is like hunting. Humans hunt deer up in the mountains and through the wilderness, often in nasty or freezing cold weather. They hike for miles through rough terrains and unmarked trails, trying to find something worth killing. Once they find their prey and shoot it, they have to drag it back home.

I had been running for miles through wilderness, cities and everywhere in between, searching for baddies. My job was to find them and get rid of them. Normally they'd puff into thin air once they'd been beaten, but sometimes I'd have to drag their bodies to a safe place. (That sounds pretty gross. It is.)

Being a chaser was horrifying and painful, but delightful and satisfying as well. It was agonizing plowing through snow up to your chest, squinting through the cold searching for baddies, but it was exhilarating feeling such power and speed. It felt so natural and familiar, even though I had only been chasing for a few hours.

I was on my first chase. It was very cold and nasty at first, but I quickly got used to it. I had been sent to a wildlife reserve a few kilometers from the edge of Moscow Russia, which had been an area frequented by baddies.

I was terrified and nervous, but all the other chasers were busy elsewhere and the baddies here had to be dealt with.

Just hours before I had been sent out. St. Nick, or better known as Santa Claus, had called me to his workshop early in the morning. It was early enough that the constant crowd of elves, klookies, chasers, paparazzi and lost pizza delivery guys, normally fighting their way through the giant door, was very sparse. I was able to get through with elbowing only three animals/people/whatever-they-were.

Poor little Frej guarded the door valiantly day and night. He was about a fourth awake, swatting at animals/people/whatever-they-were drowsily and muttering "You're not that important . . . You're not that important . . ."

"Frej." I meowed sternly, quite tired and worn out myself. "Nick sent an elf to come wake me up and go meet with him."

"Uh? Oh, yes. He did. Go on up." He said, barely opening an eye.

Frej opened the door just a little for me to get through. A little elf was able to crawl through as well; he ran straight to the stocking-stuffer room. (probably to try some truffles or hand made candy canes) Frej didn't care to stop him.

I headed to Nick's office. I got lost a few times and had to back track; I still didn't know where everything was in the North Pole; it was so big, I doubted I would ever know my way around, but I found it eventually.

Before I went inside, I stared at the door for a while. It was so beautiful; simple carvings of happy children opening gifts embellished the door, lovingly painted with soft hues. It made me smile and forget about my worries and frustration for a moment.

I shook myself and pushed the door open. Nick was whittling a flute by the grand fire place. Mrs. Claus was rocking in a wooden chair, finishing off a red and white scarf.

"Privet," I said, walking through the large door. "you called for me."

"Oh, hello Mika!" Mrs. Claus said. "Come on over here by the fire. It's warm." She was wearing red overalls over a green sweater, decorated with have a holly jolly Christmas knitted in white on it.

I sat by her feet. Nick paused his work and turned to look at me. "Thank you for coming so early, Mika. Pardon the time, but we have important business to get over with and work to do. Christmas is the day after tomorrow, and we need chasers desperately.

"I know it's very soon, and you've only just begun your training, but you've already dealt with plenty of baddies and you're a valuable asset to our team of chasers."

"I'm not that special." I said.

"But you are." Nick said, his glasses glinting in the light of the fire place. "First of all, your spunk has kept you alive. As much as I hate admitting it, not following the rules has kept you alive."

I didn't respond.

"Not that we condone rebellion or bad behavior," Mrs. Claus said seriously. "but it's your ability to decide what is most important in a split second. You value our success as a committee of the North Pole more than your own safety or well being."

"Second of all, you're very physically important." Nick said. The lenses of his glasses reflected the fireplace's golden light. "You can withstand the frost and the cold. You shouldn't have survived running across the frost horse's backs. You shouldn't have survived being in the Ice Wolf's dungeon. In times before, they have called ones like you brann hjertet, which translates as 'fire heart'. They seem to have a warmer, brighter soul. They feel the cold, but they do not let it become a part of them. We believe Thrush is one of these brann hjertet as well."

"We don't have much time." Mrs. Claus said. "We can't go through the formalities. But will you accept this scarf, as one of the chasers?" She clipped the thread that connected the project to the ball of yarn and held it out to me.

"The white symbolizes purity and the red symbolizes bravery." Nick said. "You have shown both, but we hope that you will stay steadfast to these values."

I took the scarf and wrapped it around my neck. It was very thick and heavy. "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

Within twenty minutes I was given my instructions, selected fifteen different orbs and a pair of silver claws from the bunker, and was traveling to Moscow through a portal.

It was weird being in Russia again. Not long ago, I was dangling from the branches of a tree while Kota melted ice horses beneath me. That felt like so long ago . . . I had changed so much since then. It had been about a week ago. Was it less than a week? I couldn't remember.

The wind suddenly kicked up, blowing armfuls of snow in my face. It was very cold again and I shivered harshly. The smaller, more petty trees shook with me.

Once the snow had cleared, I noticed something through the trees. It was very far away; I shouldn't have noticed it, but it shifted just a little and glimmered bright gold.

I stared at it, wondering if it would move. After a long time, it stood up and walked over the ridge.

I ran to where it had disappeared as quietly as I could. Was it another baddie? Most of them were a dry, dusty color or an icy blue; they didn't usually shine with such luster.

As I got nearer, I walked more quietly, tip-toeing through the soft snow. I peeked  over the edge of a fallen tree, turning my ears back so they wouldn't be so dark against the snow.

There was a tall, lanky creature that resembled a combination of a fox and a reindeer. It had thick, golden, shiny fur and two large fangs coming from it's lips like stalactites. It had large ears and small, beady eyes. It was quite a handsome animal; an aura of prowess radiated from it. It wandered about the clearing, sniffing the tree's trunks.

I was about to readjust myself into a more comfortable position so I could study the creature for longer, but my fore paw slipped through a bank of snow and I hit my chin against the log. The sound rang densely through the clearing. The creature swiftly turned its head my way, searching for the source of the noise. I quickly ducked my head behind the log and prayed it hadn't seen me.

"A sound!" It cried, rather loudly. "A thump, more precisely!"

His voice was thick and deep, as if the creature was announcing the ballad he was about to sing. "Not a creature can hide from me, when it is my will to find them! I say this because it is no coincidence that tree or rock could have made that sound, only a creature can make such a slovenly thump!"

I heard two quick bounds through the snow and in a flash a dark shadow and a thick scent of cardamom hovered above me.

I looked up quickly in surprise. The creature's long fangs nearly punctured my eyes. I crawled backwards quickly, growling deeply.

"Oh my! I have seen the likes of you before, with the checkered scarf and the briskest of cerulean eyes! Such a warrior, such a vain part you play!" He said, stepping over the log daintily. "You work for none other than Saint Nicholas!"

I wasn't surprised he knew what I was. Most baddies knew what a chaser was and understood enough cause them trouble.

"Do you work for the Frsye Dryet?" I asked, right to the point.

"Such a beast!" The creature howled, throwing his head towards the sky. "How swift he is! How cunning! How treacherous, like winter itself!" He brought his head back down to the ground and started stomping in the snow. What was he doing? This was such a strange animal!

"No one works for him! We only work for his great cause!" He said, pounding faster and faster till he suddenly came to a halt.

We? I thought. So he is a baddie.

"All who oppose his great cause must be destroyed. How unfortunate for the chaser! How foolish this one is, daring to even glance at the great Areatus!"

Suddenly the creature began to shift and morph. His fur became dark like the burning tinder of a fire. All of his teeth grew into long, ivory fangs poking from of his lips. His claws grew thick and his legs grew very tall.

The ugly creature towered at least two meters above me; He was smiling, laughing down at me.

Without thinking I ran the opposite direction. Without a heartbeat of delay, the giant creature followed after me; he took long, graceful bounds and was soon on my tail . With a jolt, I realized I had to sprint faster.

It was hard to run through all the snow with the added weight of my new scarf and orbs. The silver claws alone were considerably heavy. It didn't help that I was exhausted from shivering in the cold. But if I really wanted to keep my pelt, I would have to run faster.

Then, feeling stupid, I remembered I was supposed to get rid of baddies, not run from them.

I turned around immediately, pulling out a green orb, but I panicked and dropped it in the snow.

The creature was singing, almost screaming, and it's beady eyes cut deep into me. It ate up the ground I had fought for in half a second. In that time I fumbled for another orb, not caring what it was, and threw it hastily towards the creature. Without another glance I sprinted again in the other direction.

I wasn't a dekameter away when the creature stopped singing and said, "I know of the black orb!"

It began wailing in horror when I heard something fracture.

I was pushed back by a wave of invisible force and my pelt was coated with a layer of burning, stifling pain. There was a cacophonous boom.

Oops. I had dropped a Pompeii orb.