The wind howls through the frosted pines as you stumble over a root, breath puffing in little cloudlets. Your feet are numb. Just when you think you’ll have to hug a tree and wait for the morning, a warm glow peeks through the trees.

“Hey! You look like a popsicle with legs!”

You blink. Standing before you is a tall Cookie, probably from the Milk Tribe. By his side was a red bean yak. "Are you okay, friend? I doubt you're here for a simple stroll, heh."