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If they never know for sure, they can't make judgments. Arden walked to the window to look out of the box he lived in, and as he had for years, saw nothing but the wall of the building next to his. A fitting metaphor, no? All boxed in, self-sentenced, and nothing to look forward to but maybe another box. How long had he lived like this - no, existed like this? Too long, surely. But no, this wasn't about him, not really. He had to keep going. There would be time for recrimination later. There was always time for that. He walked back to his desk.

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If there were any other time of year than Halloween that made Arden feel like a kid at Christmas, it was, well, Christmas! The lights, the food, the decorations; that was really it, the decorations. The wolf thought the best thing about the holiday season was that people took just a bit more notice of their surroundings, and beautified them. They cared. They thought about things a little more, and they freely shared themselves, through their decorations, with others; you got to see a bit of who they really were by how they chose to decorate.

Arden thought it was all beautiful. Well, not so much the weird all-blue light displays, or the trees that flashed like they were having a seizure - what was that about? - but to each his, or her, own. It all melded together in the wolf's romantic mind into a sparkly, warm, cinnamon-scented, gold-foil-wrapped package that he looked forward to opening every year.

As he sauntered up the now-familiar driveway, self-made Santa hat perched jauntily between his ears, Arden noticed that David had been busy again, and that the smaller fox, who appeared to be shivering a bit through his dull fur, was already standing on the porch waiting for him.

"Hey Arden," came the familiar quiet greeting. "Welcome to the North Pole!"

"Wow..." the lupine exhaled as he came close enough for his eyes to resolve what, in fact, he was seeing. All around the entire roofline of the house, hung thick icicle shapes of varying lengths, softly pulsing with light. In fact, from a short distance away, it appeared as if the lights were drips of icy water, traveling down the spikes. "Where did you get these? There's thousands of lights on hundreds of strings here! I've never seen anything like it before!"

The fennec looked away from the enthusiastic wolf, embarrassed at the compliment. "Um, it's an idea I've had for a while now. Y'know those Christmas lights that you can set to chase? Well, I figured that you could bunch them up in a shape like that, and make sure that the lights you could see on the outside all go the same direction. Then it looks like dripping icicles. And the ones inside don't matter because they just look like sparkles."

"Sparkle fairy!" the canids both exclaimed in unison. It was an inside joke between the two. Once, as the fox was talking about a fiber-optic installation he did for a theme park ride, he had described one section as, 'looking like the Sparkle Fairy threw up all over everything.' Arden hadn't been able to catch his breath for a solid minute after that, and it had become a well-worn phrase.

"And don't get any ideas about copying his idea. We're gonna patent this."

Tim. Joy to the world.

Arden looked pointedly at the fox, who shrugged.

"Well, I mean, maybe. But just don't try to sell it until we see, huh?

The wolf assured him, and by extension the obnoxious opossum standing in the doorway, that he would most assuredly not be trying to sell electric Christmas icicles held together with scores of tiny zip ties any time soon.

"You're letting all the heat out!" called a voice from further within the house.

Tim didn't seem to hear or care about the complaint, or the complainer. Professional courtesy? He stood there squinting through his oversized glasses down his pinched nose at Arden. His fur seemed more unruly than usual today. In fact, both Tim and David looked extra-tired. Maybe it was the hustle and bustle of the holidays.

"So, what did you want to do tonight?" the lupine asked.

"David has plans tonight," sneered Tim, as he took a step out onto the porch as if to assert his dominion over the property. _His_property.

"I thought..." the wolf said softly

"Oh. Yeah. Um, I'm sorry. I forgot I have stuff to do tonight, y'know? We have a show coming up, and...I was gonna call you, but I got sidetracked, and I'm sorry you came all this way, but we'll get together soon, OK?"

The confusion must have been evident in Arden's eyes, and perhaps a bit of disbelief too, because David quickly added, "And I'm not really feeling that great right now, so I don't want to get you sick or anything, y'know? I'd feel really bad about that..." He trailed off uncertainly.

"The door!" droned the muffled inside voice somewhere behind Tim.

"Alright!" bellowed the opossum, as he turned to go inside. "C'mon, Dave."

"OK, then," said Arden, awkwardly standing on the drive, not knowing where to put his paws. "Have a good Christmas, OK? I'll, um, I'll call after the New Year and we can get together, is that OK?"

"Oh! Yeah, that's great! I really want to talk to you about some ideas I have. Maybe you can help me -"

"C'mon Dave!" Tim's voice was now muffled from inside. Maybe somebody put a pillow over his muzzle, thought Arden. He wouldn't blame them.

"OK, well...I'll see ya." Arden turned to go. As he heard the door close softly behind him, the wolf found himself in silence, alone with his thoughts. And as often happened, his thoughts were louder than the silence in which he found himself.

He just couldn't figure it out. Why was Tim so nasty to him? He'd never said or done anything to him to be treated that way. Granted, he seemed to be prickly with everyone - maybe it was an opossum thing? Arden mentally slapped his wrist at that thought, though he wouldn't mentally apologize for it.

And try as he might, the wolf just couldn't see them as a couple. Certainly, neither was an underwear model or anything, but David was so small, polite and almost fragile, and Tim was...Tim was a boor. They threw the trash out the trailer window, but it grew legs and slunk back, as his grandmother used to say about some people. Come to think of it, maybe she was referring to cats? Arden's eyes flew open in surprise, and resolved never to use the phrase himself.

As he drove home, the question still gnawed at him - again, not the best turn of phrase in regards to an opossum, especially not with those nicotine grinders of his.

Arden had always seen himself as a good wolf. His mom told him that all the time growing up. It was something he was, and then something he always aspired to be. By extension, the lupine made a career out of being helpful - like when he worked on everybody else's costume last Halloween before he'd finished his own. It made him happy, but if he were honest, it also made him feel needed. He believed the people around him would accept him then, even if they didn't like or approve of something about him. Like something he was, or couldn't change. They'd accept him anyway.

But Tim? He had no reason to dislike Arden, and yet he did, it seemed, intensely. How ironic! If the opossum only knew...maybe it would be common ground? The wolf's ears immediately fell to his skull, and he heaved a tired sigh. He knew better than that. Some paths were not open to a good wolf.