"Deal," you say, shaking his tiny frosting hand with your pinky finger. He leads you to the edge of the woods. "The others went ahead," he says. "They're waiting at the Snowflake Station." "Snowflake Station?" you ask. He points to an old tree stump covered in icicles. As you get closer, you see it's glowing faintly. Tiny gingerbread men are clearing snow off the top, making a flat platform. "We're waiting for the express," he explains. Just then, a gust of wind swirls through the trees, smelling of peppermint. A faint train whistle blows in the distance. Your eyes go wide. "No way." "Way!" he grins. "Thanks for walking me here. I would've been lost in that snowdrift without you." He scrambles up the stump to join his friends. They all wave at you. "Goodbye, human friend!" You watch as the peppermint wind picks up, swirling around the stump until—POOF!—the cookies are gone. Only a faint sparkle of sugar remains. You walk back to the house, smiling. "Nobody's gonna believe this," you whisper to yourself.