Percy shifted, as uncomfortable in the suit that he was wearing as he was in his human form. Neither of the comforts he was enduring were necessary, in his opinion, though the Druden sitting across from him was part of the self-proclaimed "new guard" that was bringing their clan into "modern times".

The air quotes were his.

Rupert smiled, with what could be construed as sympathy if the Druden wasn't a creature that caused a person to get lost and die in their dreams, and their smiles were the harbingers of the end of times itself.

Or had been.

Rupert wore a suit, too, and he didn't seem to care about it as much as Percy did. Finally, Percy's manager let out a soft breath. "We're giving you the season off. You've been doing this gig for what..."

"Seven centuries. Since my antlers came in." Percy fought the urge to scowl.

Logically, he wasn't against changes or adapting to things. He had lived through the times when his kind worked with the other side to bring balance to the world. Good creatures rewarded good behaviour, and Percy's ilk punished unacceptable behaviour. Then there had been the wars that dogmatized right and wrong, the competitions and the outright antagonism between the two factions.

Percy had fought in those wars, hunted during the times when he was demonized, unironically, and escaped the chains of his persecutors a great many times. And he had adapted when peace was finally settled upon, then turned into a corporate competition that pitted them against one another to see how many results they could get.

How many people were good because of the good guys? And how many were good because the bad guys were scaring the shit out of them?

There were meters and charts and magical spells that could keep track of all that. And Percy had been clocking in the highest numbers of his kind for the past several decades.

Then this change had come.

Percy had lasted a few weeks' training with the nit-wit they had assigned as his partner, and he had not even been that mean. But the fairy had cried when Percy hadn't waited for them, and suddenly Percy was sitting in his human form in a suit, in his boss's office, being smiled at with pity.

"We don't... restrict people's... purpose to their species anymore. Seven centuries is a long time to be doing anything." Rupert paused, then grimaced when he realized what his words were actually saying.

"So you're firing me." Percy snorted, though he reigned in his powers enough that only smoke billowed out from his nose.

Rupert shook his head, holding up his hands as if Percy was attacking him. "No. No. We're giving you a sabbatical. You've been our best performer forever, but... you deserve a vacation. Go find a quiet place and evaluate everything. You're carrying seven centuries of turmoil around with you, and we want to give you the chance to shed some of that."

Though this new style of boss claimed they weren't going around and enforcing their decisions with iron fists, Percy had seen excellent brethren taken down on better hills than his. So he nodded and stood. "Alright."

"Out of this realm. Keep that form until after the season is over. We don't want people to mistake you for a rogue agent and cause issues." Rupert stood as well, reaching out a hand toward Percy.

Percy looked down at the carefully manicured and polished claws, then nodded and turned, stalking out of the office and into the cold, dark forest that was his alpine home. As he trudged through the snow, he allowed himself one last chance to shift, his large powerful legs breaking the six foot high snow drifts with ease as he glanced up at the brilliantly full moon. He could feel the light of it shimmering magic across his horns, and smiled up at the goddess who would be fully dark by the time Winter Solstice was upon them.

A good night to be a Krampus.

It was a few weeks till the solstice, and then a few weeks beyond that for the rest of the holiday magic to dissipate as various creatures celebrated their versions of the passing of the darkest day of the year. A few months of exile into the neutral realms would be a straightforward task, as long as he stayed isolated in as small a town as possible.

***

"It's not much, but everything works and you're not so far at the edge of town that you can't easily come in for a hot cocoa." The little woman had not stopped smiling at him since he had arrived at the inn and introduced himself to her.

She was pudgy and friendly, with curly gold hair, blue eyes and fluffy red and green winter clothes on. How she hopped along through the snow, down the cold and dark road to the little cottage that Percy's sister's friend's cousin secured for him, he did not know.

The place was small, but it contained a gigantic stone fireplace that was roaring, a small eating and kitchen area, a bathroom and a loft bedroom. There was a wall filled with shelves that contained books, and it smelled like the pot that was sitting on the stove held some sort of hearty beef stew.

Though Percy frowned at the large pine tree decorated with candies and treats, the wreaths and garland that was strung all over and the quilts that were embroidered with a variety of sickeningly happy looking elves and snowmen.

"Uh... thanks..." Percy shook his head and glanced down at the woman, doing his best to smile back. "You didn't have to... decorate."

"Nonsense! You're moving in so late and it's just spare stuff I had lying around. I kept all the Santa Claus to myself, though. I love him too much. That's my favourite decoration." Then the woman paused and frowned. "Oh, that sounds down-right naughty of me, doesn't it? I shouldn't be so selfish. I can bring you over a couple of towels and I have the most adorable stuffed Claus that would look great on the easy chair."

"No!" Percy shook his head, holding up a hand with a soft laugh. "No, it's not selfish at all. I... prefer the snowmen, to be honest. It's like you read my mind. You give me all the snowmen and you can keep Santa all to yourself."

She laughed and puttered around the house, showing him things that he was sure he could have figured out for himself, chatting about various places he could go for food or company within the village that 'was all very friendly' and over an hour worth of other details before she finally let out a soft breath and stopped.

Percy watched her curiously, fighting a grin, when he realized she truly had run out of things to talk about. "Thank you very much for all the help. I think I'll be able to be quite self sufficient here."

"Oh nonsense. No one is self-sufficient. And you won't be lonely this holiday season, not here in Tinsel." She beamed at him, though she turned and toddled back to the door, fussing over the fire and various things until she was finally gone.

Percy huffed out a breath and finally pulled off his dark grey winter coat, falling into the chair that was sitting beside the fire. How had he managed to rent a cottage from the most Christmas obsessed woman in the world? Though he was proud of himself for being diplomatic, and dare he say... kind... to the old bat. Not too kind, though. If she was looking for an invitation to stay and drink cocoa, he had disappointed her, which would probably dissuade her from returning any time soon.

After a few moments' rest, he stood and methodically folded up all the holiday nonsense, pushing it all, along with the tree, into a closet that he would not use for the duration of his stay.

And once any trace of the garish and obnoxious holiday decor was gone, he turned his attention to the food left behind.

The stew was delicious.

Incredibly so.

So much so that Percy almost regretted the fact that he hadn't asked the woman to stay, if only to charm her into making him more of the stuff at some point during his exile in this sleepy little forest village that was already half buried in snow. But not enough that he would chance running into her again, or finding her house with her supposed obsession with the enemy.

No amount of modernization would keep him nice when he was faced with any depiction of the creatures that most mortals referred to as the singular Santa Claus.