To give him the importance his rank deserved, the elves changed his name from "Fuzzle" to "The Fuzzle" as a mark of respect.
"Mmmm, The Fuzzle you say?" said Santa, stroking his beard in deep thought.
But The Fuzzle led his own band of woodcutter elves and Santa accepted they were different from his own toy-makers.
We're going to see The Fuzzle - and we have no time to lose."
This is the home of The Fuzzle," said Mixu confidently.
Soon the whole village filled the tiny snow-covered square outside The Fuzzle's home - a house carved into a giant tree with lots of windows - and elves peering out of every one.
Word had already reached The Fuzzle, and the wizened little grey-haired elf was waiting at the front door.
Then The Fuzzle invited Santa inside for hot reindeer milk and bread.
Finally, The Fuzzle put his own cup down, approached Santa and whispered in his ear.
The magic is not even in Rudolph," said The Fuzzle with a little grin.
"Tomorrow, pack your sleigh with toys as normal - and trust the word of The Fuzzle that it will fly."
Santa was so delighted he could barely mutter his thanks to The Fuzzle. But they shook hands once more.