In winters cold chill the Yule Cat makes its home. Slipping and stalking its prey it moves from window to window, alley to shadow. Its eyes ever on the move for those unfortunate enough to catch its ire. On the night of Christmas Eve the Yule Cat stalks those clothed in the trappings of old and forgotten their new cloths at home. Such poor souls are the favorite feast to a creature without spite.

On this night of Christmas Eve little Jonny walked from the church and headed home. His tattered shirt and hand me down pants ill fit his small frame. The winters bite was deep on his fingers as he walked through the snow half dazed. It was then the Yule Cat spotted his prey and began to move closer to his target. Jonny blew into his hands, his mind not paying attention to his surroundings. Just as Jonny was half way home, the Yule Cat charged and pounced on the boy.

It was then Jonny was not seen till the morning. His lips blue as the Yule Cat had his fill and left. Jonny was not the first meal for the Yule Cat. And he will not be the last.

Time and again the large Yule Cat hunted the small town where Jonny used to live. The only survivor being the town drunk who escaped by waving new mittens on his hands. The Yule Cat left him for better meals, maybe the alcohol didn't agree.