Dancer trots beside you as you step into Gingerbread House Lane, the air suddenly warm and sweet. The whole street smells like cinnamon, molasses, and freshly baked cookies. Elves peek out from frosting-framed windows, their gumdrop buttons glistening. "Welcome to the Lane!" an elf calls, waving a spatula. "Would you like a piece of peanut brittle?" Before you can answer, another elf zips by on a licorice skateboard and sprays a puff of powdered sugar that settles on your hat. You explain that you're searching for Santa's missing list, and the gingerbread elves gasp dramatically. "Oh dear!" cries one with marshmallow hair. "We haven't seen any papers flying around here, only cookie crumbs!" They search high and low—checking under candy cane park benches, behind chocolate shingles, even inside a cup of hot cocoa—but there's no sign of the list. Dancer sighs. "It looks like this is a dead end." Just then, a cold gust of wind whips through the lane, scattering sprinkles everywhere. A blizzard is starting. "We need to get back to North Pole Village before this gets worse," Dancer urges. You nod and climb onto her back. She leaps into the swirling snow, guiding you safely home.