Blixem was melancholy. Another winter and it was the same old thing. A whole year of preparing for one crazy night. He was in a rut deep enough to hang Christmas stockings. He wandered aimlessly away from Christmas Town followed by his pet, Hooman.
He trudged all night without purpose through the snow until he found himself in a forest. Then, at dawn, he stumbled into a strange grove of trees. They were arranged in a circle and each contained a door with a mysterious symbol.
“What’s this?” Blixen said. “It’s someplace new!”
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