The blizzard hit without warning, turning the familiar green landscape into a blinding white mess. You were hunched down, trying to shield your face from the cold, when you suddenly hear the sound of stomps, growing louder by the second. Then, frantic mooing. Looking up, you saw a stampede of Whipped Cream Cows charging directly down the slope.

Just as the lead bull lowered its head, ready to clear you from its path, a sharp whistle through the chaos.

"Hold your horns, partners! Trail's closed!"

A Cookie riding a sled carried by penguins passed through you and the herd. He hooked a rope around the lead bull's horns and yanked, diverting the flow of the panicked cows just inches from where you were frozen still.