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Two sisters stepped up to the acha's booth. Bloodsucker tossed her curls as Creature's breath fogged as she laughed. "We've a song!" the long-haired doe called. "It's a round- it sounds better that way." She took a step back as her sister began in a high, clear voice.

"Snow, snow, snow,

Quiets, hushes, stills and slumbers,
Putting out the brightest embers,
Snow, snow, snow."

As she moved to the second verse, her sister chimed in with a repeat of the first verse.

"Snow, snow, snow,
Over hills and in the valleys,
(Snow, snow, snow)
Is the mountains' true dominion,
(Settles like a sleeping cat and)
Oh that lovely force of nature,
(Quiets, hushes, stills and slumbers,)
Snow, snow, snow!
(Putting out the brightest embers)
Snow, snow, snow!
(Snow snow snow!)"

Wandering towards the lovely tune, Blue Blood listened for a moment before he let out his own singing reply to the request. He could hardly not give into such a request now could he?

" What is cold and old shall be grown anew,
the mountains of high, would never deny the spring that comes.
Yet winter's chill is all to fresh and it's reach to far,
To see the green we must brave the storm and so we mourn for the spring that has yet to come.

We walk on water and cast no stones,
as winter's chill sinks to our bones,
the only warmth we feel in our hearts
is knowing that one day the green will part- this cold white world that is at it's start

With age comes knowing what hold the news of a newborn ewe
The heat, a light, we feel the warmth of the sun
Winter's grasp will go so far
Yet we can see the end so we cheer and cry, knowing that one day, the sun will part the sky."

Glitter paused thoughtfully at the request for a carol. "A tune? For winter? I know one that can work! It's kind of long, though, so I'll just do two verses and the refrain. I think it'll still be good!" She cleared her throat and began to sing in a warm voice.

"Come gather 'round the fire,
The wind blows bitter cold.
Come gather 'round the fire,
We'll share the tales of old,
And for all we will recall all those who came before,
Come gather 'round the fire,
We'll sing of friends of yore.

Once there was a Kimeti,
Whose heart was cold as ice,
Not even in the winter
Could you find them to be nice.
They gathered 'round the fire
A-grumbling all the time,
But once they saw the warmth and love,
Their heart thawed in a trice!

Once there was an Acha
Who loved the birds that sang.
Through every single winter,
Her territory rang,
She'd gather 'round the fire
With all the chilly birds
And all those birds let out their words,
While she sang with the gang!

Oh, gather 'round the fire,
The wind blows bitter cold.
Come gather 'round the fire,
We'll share the tales of old,
And for all we will recall all those who came before,
Come gather 'round the fire,
We'll sing of friends of yore!"

Well, she'd been working on this for some time, and Streams of Silver felt there was no better place to share this little ditty than with a fresh audience– far less daunting than to the buck she was looking at courting again.

"When the depth of winter holds you
And the bone-deep cold enfolds you
Tarry not to find the company of a good buck or doe

For if you should so be taken
In the spring you will awaken
To a healthy clutch of sacs found tucked amongst the melting snow,

then you'll know, then you'll know,
your dreams will tell you so,
that the surest warmth of winter is a friendly buck or doe."

Bust a sick rhyme. He was all about this life. Side Beats was about to lay it down.

"The cold gets chilling but we don't need no filter,
I see you pushing snow, buck I'm plow'n does.
You act like you so cool but I can't see that
all I see is a fool more wiggy than a bat

My den is poppin, there is no stopping my fire,
so many does, they falling at my hooves filled with desire.
Come spring you'll see just how being frost gets you nothing
while being hot like me and and I'll have twenty plus does still fawning for me.'

Streams of Silver blinked as she waited for the last buck to finish, not quite sure what she'd thought of his particular style of orative-song.

"Let me tell you now a story from a long, long time ago
When a filly and a mongoose did a-traipse across the snow
Life was easy and was careless for the fair and clever doe
For a truer friend than her dear pet she wouldn't ever know

He would delve into the nests of birds, through many a squirrels' hoard
For his dearest tall companion he would find where food was stored
She was gratified and lucky she was so dearly adored
And atop her braching antlers above all others he would lord

But there came a time the filly was no longer very young
And to fair adulthood she had well and surely come
Her dearest friend would never leave her side, he resolutely clung
But his age was telling and one dark day he found that he was flung

He skated o'er the frozen lake and crumpled there he lied
And he wouldn't rouse no matter how the doe prodded, oh how she tried
And though the doe declared that he may never leave her side
That was the day her dearest friend laid down and softly died

Her tears as they fell on the ground lay frozen into ice
The doe's poor heart just couldn't take this devastating price
She laid herself beside him in most selfish sacrifice
And together did the mongoose and the doe find paradise

E'en now you can see them gamboling 'round through the snow
When the wind from her hooves kick frost to ribbons and tie them in a bow
You mustn't be sad for them, dear friends, for I do surely know
That the mongoose is the cold that nips and she's the mist that flows."

Every Good Buck watched Merry Wanderer with a delighted smile. Now this buck was witty, she thought! But she'd pay it no mind: she could be wittier. And her singing voice? It was far lovelier, in her own humble opinion. "I've got one - I call it The Mother," she said, with a ghost of a smile.

"I've been following the rox over-under-through the hills;
it twists and turns and runs outdoors despite the winter chills.
It's hungry and it's small, a hunter through and through.
Most frightening of all, it even escapes you!

Yes, we've got nuts and leaves, sweet mint and flowers pressed,
a feast for all our senses; we're cert'nly blessed!
Still, would you call me a fool for wond'ring how
the little ones will live like we once lived, now?

At night the foals will bleat and hide, curled up against our fur.
Safe and sound they will be our pride; I know that you'd concur.
We're in want of toothsome flesh to make their young flesh grow strong -
and though we've tried and tried, I don't know how we'll get along.

I've been following the rox over-under-through the hills;
it twists and turns and runs outdoors despite the winter chills.
It's hungry and it's small, a hunter through and through,
but most frightening of all, it even escapes you!"