The grimy, goat-legged, goat-horned figure, stooped and swarthy, hobbled into the Sorting Room. “I know you're here, Boss!” he bellowed. “You can't hide forever!”
That was a question Krampus wasn't usually asked, and he blinked. "Naughty," he said with a shrug. "Not finishing their vegetables. Being disobedient. Not picking up after themselves. Staying up past bedtime. That sort of thing."
"You must be very busy!" It was probably for the best that Westeros had no Krampus as far as Sansa knew. The poor thing would never get any rest at all.
The gods only had power when they were believed in, perhaps it was the same for this Krampus and his Santa. "That's a shame. Are you here because you're bored, then?"
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