MYO-8115: Judah

Hart worked diligently, crafting supplies scattered around him as he glued yet another puffball to the sweater he had spread out on the floor. It was a black sweater to start, the bottom carefully hemmed with white puffed garland for snow. That was, at least, the easiest part to do. Now, he was working on a wreath. He had the wreath itself done, white tinsel garland carefully stitched into a circle on the sweater. From there, he was adding the puffballs as baubles and holly berries. Pe...

Judah was pacing in his office. Back and forth, back and forth, wracking his brain for some kind of idea of what to do. Cherubuns had ways of doing things, and from the book Hart had brought home, Judah felt like he wasn’t doing enough. He could buy all the gifts he wanted for people—his employees—and Hart. Were his employees his friends? He wasn’t sure he’d call them that. Was Hart his friend, or was he something else? He paused his pacing and stoo...

There was some kind of noise happening in Judah’s house. Between the bird songs and the howling, there was singing. A sound very much not typical inside his home. He followed the sound, peeking into different rooms, and finally, when he found the origin, he watched silently. He observed the scene in front of him. His decorative pillows were on the floor, Whiskey and Tango, his and Hart’s Wulvens were lying and sitting on two of them, howling softly with the...

His tail twitched. He watched as Hart twisted together plants in an intricate circle. It wasn’t the first one he’d woven together today. No. It was the third. The previous two had already been hung on the front door and the wall in the kitchen. “Do you want to try to make one?” Hart asked him. Judah frowned—more than he already did. “No.” Cutsie things like that weren’t for him. He’d never done them, nor did he have the desire to do so. He upturne...