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The nights were becoming colder and colder in a cruel and pointed way, Hermey mused, and he didn’t much care to dwell on whether the increasingly biting temperatures were only imagined to him or not. The winds bit with teeth sharp and strong as the Abominable Snow Monster’s—or the Bumble, depending on who you ask—and while the creature in question was in possession of a set of chompers that would normally pique a healthy level of scientific interest in Hermey, he was only exhausted after so much wandering through the unforgiving white expanse with very little sleep and even less sense of direction. Weariness began to sink in on the bone-deep level.
All of this, which felt perfectly fair and reasonable to the little elf far from home, seemed to be utterly lost on Yukon Cornelius. The hulking human marched undeterred through even the thickest snow with no sign of stopping or slowing. Not only was the man not physically dissuaded by the foul weather in any way, his evergreen enthusiasm for adventure and discovery remained always untarnished. The boundless energy radiating from Hermey’s brawny companion was an undeniable plus in so many ways, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t also grate on him a little. The elf was so very out of his element out here in the elements. What could he do but tag along?
Hermey often reflected back on that first night he’d spent away from his warm bed. Rudolph, that bright young buck who had immediately endeared himself to Hermey, had made a fine substitute in their makeshift cliff dwelling, owing to his warm, baby-soft fur. (And he was only a baby, Hermey thought rather nauseously.) The two of them were only too thankful to curl up in a weary and aching sort of living pretzel, eager to rest after hours of aimless traveling. Such an arrangement is necessary for a North Pole elf, of course; Hermey shuddered to think what might have happened if he’d been left to fend off the nipping frost all alone with no external heat source to keep him regulated. As protective as he’d come to be of his new reindeer friend’s safety, it’s clear that Hermey relied on Rudolph just as much for survival out there in the wild.
Then the strange giant from over the Hudson had come sailing down the main, all big red beard and booming voice, and suddenly the slapdash duo was a trio. Perhaps more accurately: Rudolph and Hermey were plucked easily from the ground and tossed into the stranger’s cargo without protest, if this does indeed a trio make.
Things became a bit difficult after this. The human had saved them from a close encounter with the Bumble, navigated an ice raft through impossible fog with a sled full of excitable dogs intact, and led the troupe with ease up a steep mountain in search of a foreign king’s council. It was hard, however, for Hermey to look back on the one-sided conversation Yukon made so easily with the pair of travelers, or how Rudolph had snickered innocently at many of the human’s taller tales. It was especially hard to recall the conclusion to that long day when they had drifted to sleep for the night, unaware that it would be the last time they ever saw little Rudolph.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a polar bear up close before?” Yukon shook Hermey (only figuratively, this time) out of his thoughtful daze. He had a way of shouting, even while whispering, which he was, because they were mindful not to scare off dinner.
“I’ve never hunted a bear before.” Hermey confessed, suddenly feeling insecure for it, though he couldn’t say why.
“Well, unless you’d rather have fish again, we better get to huntin’!”
Hermey watched with some trepidation as Yukon manipulated his revolver. He’d never fired a gun before, either. The sight of it made him feel light and wobbly.
“No polar bear is match for me,” Yukon said determinedly, bracing himself to strike. Hermey flattened himself to the rock in tense anticipation. Distantly, he thought that Yukon’s heavy enunciation of the ‘o’ in ‘polar’ was silly and, perhaps sillier, he quite liked it.
Yukon sprung into action with all his usual reckless vigor while Hermey remained riveted to the backside of their conveniently stockade-shaped rock. A cacophony of snow crunching and snarling erupted, though Hermey could only make himself peek at the fierce battle when his companion let out an especially wild cry. There was animal roaring, a flashing of heavy white limbs, and then two thundering bangs! in rapid succession.
At that, Hermey dropped immediately to the ground. He strained to listen beyond the blood pounding in his ears for any sign of Yukon’s victory. The world was quiet for an anxious several seconds, and then a mighty “Whoopee!” could be heard from beyond the rock. Reluctant and eager at once, Hermey emerged from his shelter to take in the scene.
Yukon was trailed by a bulking white carcass smattered red at the temple. “It’s like I said: no polar bear is match for me!” He proclaimed proudly between grunts of exertion. The bear’s entire weight drug behind him with relative ease, leaving a massive streaked trail in the snow. Hermey squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.
“Aww, don’t worry. He can’t hurt you now.” Yukon said a little smugly, clearly relishing this.
Once he’d opened his eyes, Hermey tried his best not to glare. “You made quick work of it.”
“No use dragging it… euch… out,” Yukon hoisted the carcass up higher to grip its enormous ankles better.
“How long will it last, do you think?” Hermey asked, giving his companion a wide berth and feeling more than a little useless.
“Dunno,” Yukon sniffed. “Depends on how hungry my sled dogs are!”
The aforementioned sled had not yet appeared on the horizon, though Hermey knew it to be stationed deceptively close by. The bumpy valley terrain had a way of stripping all sense of direction from a person. Looking at Yukon, Hermey could not detect even the slightest hint of concern for this phenomenon, which he tried to take some comfort in.
“A polar bear hide is some of the warmest hide in the world.” Yukon said after a long silence.
“Is that true?”
“You couldn’t freeze if you tried, wrapped in one of these babies!”
“Oh, that sounds just wonderful.” A dreaminess colored Hermey’s voice; he couldn’t help it. Just the thought of folding himself into a plush fur coat seemed to take some of the chill off, and he indulged greedily in the fantasy.
“I can tell you need a little extra insulation. Well, this—” Yukon adjusted his grip on the carcass again, “—is the best method of insulation I know! No more frostbite for you, Dentist.”
Hermey felt a cautious warmth blooming in his cheeks, despite the whipping air. Before he could formulate a response, the sled appeared as if summoned by magic, and Yukon was loudly greeting his dogs.