AndEvery fall, Santa Claws and her tiny Taru helpers harvest the magic catnip fields. They spend the next three months sewing catnip toys for good little Mithra everywhere.
On December 25th, having trimmed her RSE with white fur, Santa Claws fires off her own personal Onmiwarp spell to visit those good little Mithra girls no mater where in the globe they are or on what server they reside.
Mithra everywhere await her arrival, having set out bowls of milk and plates of mice with their noses all in a perfect row and their little tails lined up just so.
Enjoy the Catnip you so richly deserve kitties. But remember, no one can be good enough that Santa Claws will bring her a Male Mithra.
I personally have never even been good enough for the action figure.
Twas the night before Mithramas, in every mog house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The leggings were hung by the moogle with care,
In hopes that St. Gwynn soon would be there;
The Mithrra were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of tarukabobs danced in their heads;
And mamma in her hairpin, and I in my red cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out in the zone there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, there i cast {flash},
It tore open the shutters and blew up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day, set objects aglow,
When, what did my wondering eyes see down below,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny chocobo,
With a little mithra driver, so agile and thin,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Gwynn.
More rapid than Dragons her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the outpost! to the top of the wall!
Now {flee} away! {flee} away! {flee} away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the mog house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Gwynn too
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Gwynn came with a bound.
She was dressed in RSE, from her head to her foot,
And her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on her back,
And she looked like a peddler just opening her gobbiepack.
Her eyes -- how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the ears on her head were crested with snow;
The stump of a pipe she held tight in her teeth,
And the smoke it encircled her head like a wreath;
She had a small face and a tight little belly,
And a tail that shook, when she laughed, like a maze jelly.
She was slight and lithe, the great Santa Claws,
And I laughed when I saw her, I gave not a pause;
A wiggle of her ears and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And filled all the leggings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a {/nod}, up the chimney she rose;
She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight,
"HAPPY MITHRAMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
Merry Christmas Kitties!!!
Who knew slackers could work so hard? D:
