He touched down lightly on the pavement, toes retreating from the icy pavement. Everything was white, each tree wearing costumes of snow and masks of ice. He smiled mischievously. This would be fun.

"Oh Tink, he laughed, thoughts of winning the game lifting him off the ground. This wintry park was just one section of his worldwide playground, and this was their last stop. Either he or Tinkerbell would win this game – three months of hide and seek - and he intended to end victorious. "Where are you, Tink?"

His breath froze and lingered in a cloud of ice. A musical laugh escaped his lips as he raced them to the ground in a sweeping dive. They shattered on the pavement and the boy's face fell. He had lost the race. He had never lost before.

Thinking again of winning, he floated upwards, heaved a breath, made the dive, and raced the ice crystals. His face fell as the ice crashed down faster than he could fly. He didn't like this cold world.

"Tink! Tink, let's go." No answer. None at all. Not even an echo. The boy waited, his toes beginning to numb. Why didn't his voice answer him?

"HELLO!" His youthful brow furrowed as something in the park snatched the echo away. "HELLO!" he screamed again, voice cracking. But there was still no echo for him to play with. In a yell of frustration, he kicked one of the snow banks, only noticing the exact wintry-ness of the park when his foot began to freeze. Scared, he darted into the air, shaking the melting snow from his foot. As the drops fell they turned to ice. The boy dove frantically and tried to beat the crystals to the ground, but he failed. He failed miserably.

He fell limply into the snow, allowing all those crystals to bite his skin. "Tink," he called softly. "Tink, I want to go home." He stared up into the gray winter sky, refusing to blink. Tears ran in steaming lines down his face. Each tear that froze was melted by the next, and then they both froze, twice the size.

"Boy, why are you crying in the snow?"

He scrambled to his feet and despite the fact that his limbs now felt like ice, he remembered his manners and bowed stiffly. She returned it with a graceful little curtsey. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Mindy Laura Sara-Lynn Hasting. What's yours?"

He studied the little girl, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Peter Pan."

"That is a rather short name."

"It never seemed to be before."

"But it is a wonderful name."

"I suppose." He sighed and trudged towards the bare trees, the snow crunching beneath his feet.

"Wait!" she called, hurrying after him. She caught up with him at the foot of the trees. Peter jumped and held fast to the lowest branch. "What are you doing?"

He tried to swing himself up onto the branch, but the covering of ice made it cold and slippery. He fell hard, bringing snow down after him. "Trying to climb this tree."

She suppressed giggles as he tried again to ascend into the branches. He fell every time. "Didn't you say your name was Peter Pan?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't you just fly to the top?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you?"

"I don't want to fly."

"But flying sounds like such a wonderful adventure!"

"I'd rather climb the trees." He tried persistently but never made it past the first branch. Up and up he jumped. He never flew. Down and down he fell. He never gave any consideration to the numbness beginning to consume his body. He paid no attention to the creeping aches.

"I think I'm going to go home." He didn't pause.

"Ok."

She began to skip away, but turned back a few hops away from Peter. "Do you want to come home with me? You can have some supper and sit by the fire. I could tell you stories."

He considered it, hanging from the branch, the moment before he fell. "I'd rather not."

"Oh… good luck with the tree."

"I'd rather you wish me good luck in hide and seek."

"Are you winning?"

"No."

"Whom are you playing with?"

Remembering, he shouted for Tinkerbell. There was no answer and Peter finally stopped jumping. A pout on his face, he turned from the girl. "I'm going home."

"Where is your home?"

"Somewhere near a star… somewhere to the right… I don't remember." The cold surrounded him as he trudged through the park, trying to remember. But the ice crystals kept forming and falling faster than he could ever fly. His mind clouded with thoughts of loosing. I hate hide and seek.