Early in the moaning.
Too early for Draconia's parents.
The howliday break had been everything Draconia had needed after such a crazy fall scaremester at Monster High. She got to fang out with her friends, enjoy winter in New Salem, and there was even that...incident at the Backyard Monster Wrestling event. But perhaps her favourite thing of all was that her whole family had come to New Salem, staying right there with her in the flat up above the Looking Glass bookstore.
Well...almost all of her family.
There were her parents, Draco and Mimsy St. George, visiting from the misty island of Avalon. And of course, her older sister, Wyvernia, who was staying in New Salem as she got her monster talk show launched. And even Gram-gram, the esteemed Scalene St. George, the matriarch of the St. George line of dragons, was there, snoring loudly with smoke seeping out from under the door to her room.
Somemonster was missing, though; Draconia's uncle. Manxome Jabberwock, Mimsy's brother, had been absent since before school started in the fall. Draconia didn't quite understand the circumstances of his departure; her 'Uncle Wocky' was from a different realm, Wonderland. Her mother assured her that everything was going to be all fright. Wonderland operated by different rules than this realm, and he had simply been summoned there.
(or, rather, his exile FROM there had suddenly ended; Draconia wasn't quite sure of the details.)
No matter the reason, Draconia greatly missed her uncle. Others may have seen his jaw that bit, his eyes of flame or his claws that catch, but Draconia had shared with him a love of books and stories, and him not being around left a hole in her jeweled ruby heart. If she had one Cryptmas wish, it was to see her uncle down at the store again, his claws tracing down the spine of some new acquisition, some ancient tome to add to the store's collection.
That wish came to her heart again as Draconia opened one eye on Cryptmas moaning and looked at the clock next to her bed. 4:04 a.m...much too early to get up. When she was a hatchling, maybe she would have bounced out of bed, opened up her parents' door (her father would let out a loud, flaming groan) and insist everyone go downstairs and see what Santa Claws had brought. But now, at the stately age of 16 dragon years, Draconia was far too old for that impulse (probably much to her father's relief). She wiggled her toes in bed and tried to close her eyes back, tight shut until a more reasonable hour. Uncle Wocky would have been up already, she thought to herself.
That was when she heard it.
It wasn't a bump or a crash. It was more like the sound of wind being sucked into the mouth of a cave, or the sound the Mad Science class had heard when Glen had accidentally created a black hole for his final project and it sucked up Mr. Hackington's favourite apron.
Except that this sounded...more unearthly, somehow. Draconia sat up in bed.
*Bump! Bump! Crsssh!*
Now THAT sound was definitely earthly. That was the sound of something crashing into the large Cryptmas tree that was near the fireplace downstairs, followed by a burbling growl that, were it not in Riddlish (the language of Wonderland), may have been some rather foul language.
Draconia darted out of bed. She was followed by her sister, who was rubbing her eyes, and her parents. Draco's wings were badly tangled in the bedsheets,and he dragged half the bed down the hallway with him.
"Whas goinon" Wyvernia moaned out as she tried to get fully awake. Draconia had never been more awake, though, and so she was the first one down the winding staircase, going from the flat above to the store below.
"Too early for this," Draco muttered as Mimsy finally got him untangled, but not before he had dragged their mattress halfway down the hall. "If it's a robber, I'm going to fry him to a crisp and go back to bed."
"That's no robber!" Draconia called back over her shoulder as she came to the bottom step and flipped the giant rocker switch that powered the shop's lights. "That's my uncle!"
There, standing next to a severely toppled tree, looming taller than all of them, wings outstretched and covered in tinsel and garland stood the Jabberwock of lore.
"Gyres and gimbles!" Draconia's mum beamed. "You made it back!"
Draconia couldn't say anything else, though. She dashed forward, and put her arms around her dear uncle. No matter what other presents may have been under the tree (slightly flattened though they were), none of them could top this.
Her whole family was together again. Except...
"HEY!" A shout came from the top of the stairs as smoke poured down them. "KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE!"
Gram-gram Scalene harumphed back into her bedroom, muttering.
"Kids these days! Don't they know to let an old dragon sleep in?!"