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"Real Dreams" by silveryskies
Dying Sprigs of Mistletoe hung over each cell, more gloomy than cheerful. A not-so-decorated tree with only half its needles left drooped near the front desk. Tundra hated Christmas. All the normal Neopians were happy and merry, while abandoned pets sat lonely in their cells, freezing to death. How could they smile so happily? It just wasn’t fair...

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