**Working on a Title**

Dasher

Reggie grinned as he jogged, he could feel the speed in him begging to get out. He wanted to run but he had to wait. Had to wait until he got just a little bit closer.

All around the forest other elves were running with all their strength trying to make it to the checkpoints, he could see the little puffs of snow as they sprinted. None were as impressive as his though. His bursts of speed far outshines these lesser elves. He almost felt sorry for them for even trying.

"Some of them are losing a day of quota just on the slim chance that they could make it. Silly really" He thought. "They had to know he was the only viable choice to take up the mantle of Dasher"

The last Dasher had passed away in defending his title earlier in the year his heart gave out as he crossed the finish line of a challenge. Simple fact was he had gotten old. Since the challenger technically lost it was opened to all who wanted it. Such an opportunity to become one of the Eight in an open competition rarely happens! Usually there is an open call, but no one is willing to take the chance to take a title when they are still young and healthy.

Reggie stopped a moment to survey the area, the trees were getting sparse, so he knew he was nearing the last hurdle, he needed to conserve his speed. Slowing to a walk he kept a wary eye out. He had long since captured the stocking that they were to bring back he just needed to place it on the sleigh.

A few more minutes and he broke through the trees a few hundred yards away sat the sleigh, just waiting for him to claim what was rightfully his. The brief moment of comtemplation almost caused his failure though as a younger, less patient, elf charged him but fell short by a mere foot. Reggie grinned, waved the stocking at him and jogged away; leaving the other elf panting.

"Stupid" Reggie chided himself "Pay attention, at least I won't have to worry about him for a few minutes."

His eyes darted around the open field, he could see other elves running out of the woods as they saw him carrying the scarlet stocking. Puffs of snow exploded into the air as they desperately gave chase. Reggie could see that not a single one was close enough to worry about.

Glancing at the sun, the timer for this trial, he could see that it was setting fast. A quick look around to get his bearing and, judging he was close enough, he finally let the speed have what it wanted.

It built up in his chest and transferred to his legs and exploded into his feet. A whirlwind of snow left in his wake as he sprinted to the sleigh. He made it with time, and energy, to spare. Skidding to a halt he laid the stocking onto the floorboards.

The large white bearded man in the sleigh smiled "What is your name?"

"Reggie, sir." He barely contained his excitement.

"Not anymore. You carry the mantle of Dasher and all that comes with it until someone else takes the title in the challenge or you are deceased." Seriousness filled the man's voice.

"Yes sir."

The man shook his head. "That also means you have earned the right to call me by my name, Dasher."

Reggie, no, Dasher smiled at being called by his new name and responded. "Yes Santa."

Santa nodded and walked away to his home, leaving the newly appointed Dasher in the care of his stewards.