“Merry Christmas, you hellion!” shouted Clay-Boy, his voice fading quickly in the insulating snow. Clay-Boy picked up his ax and looked back at what was to have been the Christmas Tree. The ground around it was churned and torn from the buck’s onslaught. The tree itself had been ruined, but Clay-Boy was grateful for the protection it had afforded him. It would not be hard to find another. The woods were full of Christmas Trees.
