On the eleventh day of Christmas, my stories gave to me...
eleven squalls a-storming,
ten knives a-throwing,
nine eggnog cartons,
eight snowballs flying,
seven strands a-tangling,
six skeins of black yarn,
five glowing wreaths...
four dragon eggs,
three blank stares,
two chestnuts soaked,
and a blue crab in a scrap tree
And now a sneak peak into the wonderful world of an unnamed story that features Pirates with a Capital P™, a magic cave, retellings of Aladdin, Robin Hood, Six Swans, Thumbalina, and Peter Pan, war, and did I mention Pirates?
Half the characters in this story hate me, so the only ones who I could ask for something where the two Pirate children Evylen and Halifax. Uh, Evvy and Hal.
And apparently all they think of the relates to Christmas traditions is the fact that this is storm season out in the middle of the Ocean, aaand they don't come to port during storms. So Christmas means squalls. No extra food, because it'll just be given to the fish, and no fancy clothes/jewelry/toys because it'll just get ruined in the rain.
Maybe a new saber aFtEr the squalls have passed, but other then that, nup.
They should all pass around fish
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