So, his long, long journey was going to end like this. After all the miles he’d come, for it to end here, in this snowy wasteland, was more than he could bear. But he was stuck. Frozen into the snow. Damn his incessant dancing! There was only one thing to do: think of all the beautiful, wonderful places and things he had seen. This, he believed, would help him in his passing. So, he thought. He thought of where it began; in a large, burly oak that could never be felled. He thought of his color changing until he was left with the brown of the earth below him. He thought of his plummet to meet that earth, thinking it would end there, but becoming overjoyed when the wind picked him up instead. He thought of that life-saving wind and the wings it gave him. How wonderful it was to fly! Even when that wind died to a mere breath, he still could dance. And dance he did! He danced across green grass and white sandy beaches until he thought his heart would burst. But now he was here. At the end.