You were a little toy ballerina, spinning around on your pedestal, located in your large music box, which was your home. When closed, it would turn into a full living space for you. It was Christmas Eve, and the fire in the hearth crackled nicely. You heard a nervous little cough and stopped your twirling, looking down and seeing a little tin man with only one leg, standing on the table your box was placed on.

"U-Uh, hello, up there! You-you're very pretty, miss..."