Paisley lay on her bed, wanting to fall asleep.
It was Christmas eve, almost midnight, and her arthritis was keeping her from slumber.
A sigh of frustration escaped her lips, as she gave into it and swung herself from the comforting confines of the bed, and left the room to stretch her joints.
The halls were festively decorated, tinsel lining the stairs, baubles draping from pictures and lights, Santas and snowmen lining the drawers and side tables between and occasionally inside plants, and mistletoe mischievously strung from various lights. People quickly learnt how to avoid the routes were people lay in wait.
The young girl paused for a moment as she walked, seeing another guest in the halls out of their room. Upon closer inspection, she found that the Haiku uttering Kazue was fast asleep in a window seat, book of poems lying on her chest and one sleeve pulled up, presumably so the vines wrapping around her arm could feed on the sunlight in the morning. Sneaking past so Kazue wouldn