Information

Chukchi has a minion!

Lu the Lumoth

Chukchi
Legacy Name: Chukchi

The

Glacier Devonti
Owner:

Fender_137

Age: 13 years, 4 months, 2 weeks

Born: December 15th, 2010

Adopted: 13 years, 4 months, 2 weeks ago

Adopted: December 15th, 2010

Pet Spotlight Winner
December 14th, 2011

Statistics

Level: 1
Strength: 10
Defense: 10
Speed: 10
Health: 10
HP: 0/10
Intelligence: 0
Books Read: 0
Food Eaten: 0
Job: Unemployed

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"Look! Look! Atka. He's watching us."

The man spoke to his traveling companion in their native tongue, making the thing he was pointing at twitch its head. The two men lowered their fur covered hoods. Surely their fishing trip would be successful now. It was always said in their village that Atka watched over lost travelers and brought luck to all who saw him. The ram was unlike anything anyone had ever seen, larger than most and with thick, white fur covering the majority of its body. He never slipped or stumbled on the icy peaks he was spotted on.

The Inuit hunters watched him until he receded back over the ledge he had been perched on.

"Should we follow?" one asked the other.

"Is it really wise to disturb a Guardian? What reason do we have to try and track Him?"

"It's said that He brings good fortune! Perhaps if we follow him, we'll be rewarded. Our trip hasn't been very profitable yet, and we need to catch a lot more fish for us being out here to be worth it." The younger man reached for his spear and pack he had left at his feet. He looked hopefully at his companion.

The older hunter sighed and reached for his own things. It still did not seem like a good idea to follow Atka, but he couldn't deny that the trip had so far been a waste. The ice was too thick to fish in most places. They started searching for hand and foot holds in the side of the small cliff they had seen Atka on and began their ascent. The closer they got to the top they could hear Atka's hoofbeats retreating. Pulling themselves over the edge they caught a glimpse of the Spirit Guardian trotting away.

Scrambling to their feet they followed the animal. Almost running to keep up with it, it cantered ahead of them steadily. They didn't bother to try and keep track of how long they were following it, the pure white of its coat made it hard to keep sight of.

Soon, they could no longer find Atka.

"We were right behind Him, how could we lose Him?"

"Child, He is a Guardian. He knows far more of this land than any, and no one is certain how much he is truly capable of. Did you honestly think we could keep up with him?"

The young hunter lowered his head. He looked up to apologize for his foolishness, when his face split into a grin.

"It worked! Atka has blessed us! There!" Pointing over the elder's shoulder and dashing around him he threw his pack down on the bank of a sizable lake that hadn't quite frozen over yet.

The older man looked astonished.

"So He has."

The ram stopped to watch the two men break through the ice then turned to leave. It seemed to shake its horned head as it left.

He wandered away without even opening its eyes. Its trail was one the animal had pounded many times before, and for many years. He passed through the barrier none around but him could see and found his way to a cobbled street that would take him home for the day.

"Hey, Chukchi. Out being Atka again?" A small human, barely as big as him, sidled up next to him.

"'Being Atka'? You know I was just looking for some snowberries to snack on," Chukchi replied, "They're best when they're fresh. I can't believe those people still believe that I'm some Guardian thing."

"Come off it," the elf chided, "There's been sightings of you for over a hundred years. You see the same cranky old goat for that long you're going to think it's something more than a normal animal."

". . . .True," admitted Chukchi, "But I'm not cranky!" Being one of Santa's work rams did give him a definitely longer than average life span. That and the added bonus of the ability to talk, although he still couldn't understand half of what the Inuits said. He thought their language too complicated, and stuck with the ones he used around the Village.

"If you say so Gramps. I gotta go, my shift is starting." The elf smiled and waved, heading off down the main road while Chukchi took a right onto a side street. He nodded in place of waving and gave a fake scowl.

Around Santa's Village Chukchi had become known as the good-natured curmudgeon. He had a deep love of the holidays and festivities as anyone else who lived there, but he was like anyone's grumpy Grandpa who says he doesn't want any presents and mildly chides you when you get him something anyway. He wasn't the oldest work ram there, but he huffed and puffed with the best of them. He nudged open the door to his house, which looked more like a stall than anything, built to his needs.

He passed the shelf Santa had had the elves build him to house his collection of poo related items. Every Christmas at least one person would get him something crap shaped or related and tell him he was full of it. Secretly, it never failed to make him smile. He blew the dust off his oldest and favorite collectible, a statue of a snow covered outhouse.

Hung on the wall under his poo shelf was his work harness, which he ducked under, slipped his head through and stepped into the leg holes. A moth flew through his opened door and alighted on one of his dark blue horns.

"Hey, Lu. How was your day?" Lu just fluttered his wings and settled on the shelf. Lu wasn't a pet by normal definition, but Chukchi valued his companionship anyhow and always made sure there was a dish of syrup set out for him to eat from if he wanted. As the moth made its way to the dish to have a spot of lunch Chukchi looked around his house. Spending a morning in a vast landscape of nothing but white made him appreciate the bright colors of his home. Lights and decorative baubles hung from his rafters and two silver bells graced his door frame. The dull yellow straw that covered most of his floor was brightened by a lovely, though slightly ragged and worn, Christmas tree.

There was a knock on his door, and the bells jingled as a face appeared.

"Chukchi? You are coming to dinner tonight, aren't you, Sweetheart? Mrs. Claus asked cheerfully, "Nicholas wanted to have a chat with you about load size. Doesn't want you overworking yourself, Dear."

"Yes, I'll be there, Ma'am. Go ahead and tell Santa he doesn't need to worry. I can haul anything he needs me to."

"Oh, he knows you can, but you deserve a break. Never have I seen a ram work as hard as you." She bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek and ruffle the fur on his head.

"See you tonight, Dear."

Chukchi nodded her off and shut his door, making sure the window was cracked in case Lu wanted to go for a fly. He took a deep breath of the crisp air and set off for work.

But not before he put on his grumpy face.

***

Chukchi, often called "Chuck" by some of the younger elves and work animals in Santa's Village, is over a hundred and still going. He stopped counting at around 80. At a hefty 302 pounds and 3'1" at the shoulder, he's large. Snow white fur hangs off nearly every inch of him except his face, ears and the last two inches or so of his legs where it is shorter. His horns and hooves are deep blue to the point of being black. His eyes are a light, ice blue.

He's grumpy! Stuffy. Grumpers. Grumpy-poo-pants. But he secretly loves puppies and babies and holiday spirit and all that junk. He just won't let you know it. The only person he's openly mushy in front of is Mrs. Claus because she just brings it out in him. He likes to make gingerbread houses with her. And then immediately devour them. He firmly believes snowberries are the best but only when fresh. Coconut is his favorite flavor and he has an endless supply of bad, painfully obvious eggnog jokes. He hates eggnog, but has a cup every Christmas. He can't help but hope "This year it'll taste delicious!" No, Chukchi, it won't.

His favorite color is ironically orange, and his favorite Christmas carol is "I'll Be Home With Bells On". All he wants for Christmas is Dolly Parton's autograph. Also maybe a hug. And a kiss.

He's the head work ram and his main job is to haul carts of toys to various parts of the factory and village, depending on where they need to go. He prides himself at being able to haul some of the heavier loads, and often lightly picks on his Dad about it. Both his parents are alive, thanks to Santa's magic, and are retired work animals. His best friend is Dancer, who has the pleasure of losing to him at cards every two weeks. Chukchi has the pleasure of losing to Dancer at board games though, so they consider themselves even.

Natives who have seen him worship him and he finds them silly.