Elves, man.

Sharra had nothing good to say about Elves.

They were a recurring nuisance in the world of Halloween, more of a pestilence sometimes than the gnomes that plagued Amityville on a good day. It was true that there was some bad blood betwixt holidays, and thus, it tended to bleed over onto their respective planes of existence. The nergal didn't see, however, just why the elves had to pick on Amityville, respectively. This was a school, full of youth that were just learning about their talents, about FEAR, the very lifeblood of Halloweeners. They were children, and as much as Sharra liked to think otherwise, he knew at the very least that they were not as talented as their elders, those which set the standard.

So why was it the students who were targeted?

Sharra rather doubted that Sandy Claws, if he was indeed a jolly, old, joy-filled soul, did not bear such vehement ill-will towards the denizens of Halloween. At least, not towards children and younglings, no matter what species they might be. The nergal boil, at least, felt he could comprehend something of the Joy that embodied Christmas, much as FEAR was the current that kept Halloween alive. A dangerous thought process, perhaps, for someone of pure demon lineage.

So why this war? Why had people been injured, thrown hither and thither in the name of an old feud? Sharra felt as though the elves were terrorists, doing things for the glory of their Holiday, regardless of permissions given from higher authorities. The Great Grinning King of Halloween, after all, would surely not condone the wreaking of mischief in a reverse fashion.

Such things might start an all-out war, born of miscommunication and old grudges made fresh. Perhaps the first signs of it had come years ago, when he'd been entrapped in the Infirmary and missed most of the carnage. He'd heard stories, mind, about ninjas and terrible Christmas monsters. Seemed that Christmas came packing its own sort of horror.

He'd bumped into a bewildered, and seemingly joyful Thannas as the Fae-Hound left Spirit Week, headed home after the Elfin mischief had caused the entire affair to disperse. Heh. In these parts when it didn't come with Insanity-laden fog an event was considered a success. A rather sad fact, that. Though now the Nergal youth was concerned that something dangerous might come of this seemingly innocent effect that the fresh snow was bringing to Halloween. It was so rare, after all, for holidays to experience one another. A proverbial crossing of the streams at this stage of interaction might be positively disastrous.

Really? What were the elves thinking getting these underage boils and ghouls drunk, giddy with emotions they might not otherwise have felt? Heh. Not that Sharra hadn't allowed himself a sip or two of cider when the opportunity presented itself, but to imbibe like this, to lose a certain sense of rationality... Suffice to say there were Hunters on the loose, and to lose one's grip on one's faculties with such a pressing threat was less than wise.

If Christmas and the shadowy organization, human-borne and human-perpetuated, were to simultaneously carry out their plans against Halloween, then Sharra was not at all sure that they stood a chance.

A worrisome thought, all told, though rationality prayed that it had been birthed from sheer paranoia. It caused the boil to think a bit harder on his future decisions, his priorities. He and Yaya's relationship, well the Nergal didn't consider them quite out of the woods yet. So perhaps he should bring her something? Some hot cider of the benign kind, perhaps? It certainly wouldn't go amiss, and a walk in the falling snow...well that was something that he was keen to do.

They'd been entrapped in far more serious worries than anyone of their age ought be embroiled in. Insanity, Death...and he heard the quiet rumors that there was something even worse out there, echoes of what had happened to Red and what she had gone through. In short, it was all downright complicated, and not at all what any of them had thought they'd signed up for, what with the whole school thing n'all.

So any chance to breathe, to allow themselves to forget and embrace the spirit of the moment, and that youthful energy that had surrounded them when they had first arrived here...it was beautiful. So despite the Nergal's hesitations, he couldn't bring even his cynical thoughts down to drive away that sense of magic.

It looked like Amityville might have a white Christmas.

And wrapping his new scarf 'round his neck, Sharra couldn't quite bring himself to be upset about that.