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Hunter's Yule
Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house.
Not a creature was stirring,
Except that damn mouse.
And a couple of rats,
And a Ferret I think.
Who chased all the rodents,
Under the sink.
Up through the wall,
And off 'cross the roof.
There was scrambling and shrieking,
As if to give proof.
That a war would be waged,
Over who owned the house.
Would it be the ferret?
Those rats? Or that mouse?
Now the mouse was a pip-squeak,
And was bound to fall fast.
But the rats were much bigger,
And more likely to last.
But a ferret is tricky,
And god-awful quick.
And when it comes to fighting,
They're pretty damn slick.
So all through the roof,
There arose such a clatter.
That my wife and kids came down,
To see what was the matter.
There was screeching and hissing,
And banging and bumping.
Crashing and thrashing,
And smashing and thumping.
Then all through the house,
There appeared such a stink.
That my wife checked the toilet,
The garbage and sink.
Down the wall to the sink,
This scurrying came.
And out came a rat,
As if called by name.
It was bloody and greasy,
And stinky and rank.
At this sighting my hopes,
For that poor ferret sank.
Then suddenly the rat,
Just fell over dead.
And the ferret popped out,
With the other rat's head.
Now a ferret's a hunter,
As all heathens know.
And it was our good fortune,
That he chose our home.
And so we would name him,
But what name to choose?
For this furry assassin,
This stealthy recluse.
So we thought long and hard,
Till we were sure we were right.
He's now "Ullr the Ferret",
Our Hero, Home-Wight.
© 2005 Vargr the Outlander