Toy Caribou by Jordan Gallardo

There once was a young man who was christened the name Kris Kringle. He was no ordinary man, he was a sculptor, highest in his field. But like most of the greats, he too suffered artist block and had to get away for a while. So he moved to the forest of perpetual winter to live in a small wood cabin deep in isolation. He spent weeks staring at a slab of marble or a plank of wood, a boulder of stone. He spent a month and when it became three he gave up. Going on his days in the normal, mundane way. His once refined hands became brute and rough, hands that once mold clay now broke wood. The spark had died within him.

It was a normal day, a crisp cold air kissing his chestnut beard as his worn boots trudged through the ivory snow. A crunch with every step as a couple logs of cut aspen held by a strong twine bounced slightly against his shoulder blade. His rich mahogany eyes caught a glint of gold and blue light cutting through the tree line. He stopped. The aspen logs falling at the foot of the oak cabin with a knock, breaking the silence. They dressed in armor of blue and gold, intricate designs glistening in the sunlight as they’re tall figure towered over him. Males a foot above his head, females matching his size; elves. Winter elves. At the helm of this group was a massive white reindeer, one that stood two feet above him. Its presence was demanding as soft white fur moved in the wind, giant black hooves pawing the snow. A black nose kissed with pink trailing up to dark brown eyes and white lush lashes that fluttered to strong, ebony, branch-like antlers. His ears twitched as he breathed, crystal mist moving focus from him to her; her…a rare, dangerous beauty upon the stag.

It was at that moment he got a true look of a winter elf. Long white silk strands of hair poured from the top of her head, cascading down her elongated frame. He was held by doe-like eyes painted white; big, exaggerated, beautiful, blessed with snowy lashes and eyebrows. A proud forehead that dipped into the thinnest nose above petite lips of cherry red. Her body was slim and yet curved and full at the chest and hips, sculpted. Their skin was almost a translucent marble splashed with tinges of gold at the joints. She was almost an exact replica of the rest except for her ears. The rest’s ears were pointed and stopped at the edges of their head. Hers were long with a shallow arch, ending in a horizontal teardrop as intricate metals of gold and blue gems dressed it. In fact she was the only elf dressed in glittery white silk adorned with a myriad of gold and blue jewelry. A crown of frosted gold with three blue sapphires upon her head. She introduced herself as Caroleena Queen of the Elves in a voice that was regal and yet as soft as the chime of a bell. She explained to him that he lived upon one of the land’s most powerful sources of magic. She offered him that if he allowed her and her people to build a village here that they will teach him how to control it. He agreed.

He lived with them. Learned from them. Loved them. Well, loved her anyway. But he didn’t know how to tell her. A fellow elf told him to give her a gift, one made from his own hands. The spark was lit within him once more. He worked day and night and what he had the following morning was a small caribou. It was made of some unknown matter, some combination of clay and porcelain as it sat in the palm of his hand. It was never meant to stand still, so he was posed in a way of movement, a way that didn’t allow him to stand on his own.

He gave it to her along with his confession and it was only after she accepted his feelings and proclaimed her own that he told her to sing it a song. Her favorite song. She eyed him wearily, but without further hesitation she sang to the small figurine a Christmas carol. One we will never hear. Nor ever know. And when the song was finished, the caribou glowed and came to life, serving as a small pet for the queen. An everlasting companion.

One day, Caroleena was occupied in the garden that grew mistletoe, leaving the poor caribou to roam freely and alone through the snow. He never ventured far, always within her line of sight. She turned her back for one second when a small elf child approached the caribou asking to play. Of course, the caribou was hesitant but something inside him begged him, no…pleaded him to go. And so he did…but it wasn’t long before Caroleena heard a snap and then the sniffling of a small child. There in the child’s hand was the lifeless caribou and in the other its broken antler. She gently took the pieces away from the child and ran to Kris, golden tears brimming her eyes.

It wasn’t hard to fix; a simple strand of gold thread that oozed into the cracks, a song, and love was all that was needed to bring the caribou back to life. He looked up at Kris with refined determination and eagerness.

This was Kris Kringle’s first gift and it would have been his last gift if the Caribou didn’t give him the idea of toy making. Of how it wanted to give all the good children of the world happiness after just playing with one child. The Caribou was happy with Kris and Caroleena…but he wanted to see the world, he wanted to make others smile.

Which is why he is here before you now.

Jordan Gallardo is a Creative Writing major at the University of Arizona. She has self-published multiple stories on an online forum named Wattpad under the username Jordananime. The focus of her writing is fantasy, romance, and anything dealing with the exploration of relationships. She’s in the middle of writing a short story collection that brings a new twist to Greek mythology. She hopes after she graduates that she will be able to pursue her dream career of becoming a full-fledged author.