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It's cold, Kyle thinks to himself, his red hair a stark, blood colored contrast to the crystal white snow.
He's never felt this cold before, not even in the harshest winters of South Park, but here he is, feeling ironically like he's burning alive.
He's almost asleep when he feels a tap on his shoulder. Stan stands there, smiling down at him. "Dude. Come back inside."
Kyle nods, shaking off his blanket, as they go inside to… Kyle's house. Where was the cabin, he wonders, but after a few seconds, he doesn't care because it's so warm. His Xbox is on and they're sitting there together like they used to.
"I'm glad we made up," Stan says, and Kyle agrees, he's thankful, and he's warm, and wrapped in a blanket, and there's a cup of hot chocolate in his hands.
They're playing amazing, better than they have in years, and they're laughing. Everything is fine until Kyle gets that sinking feeling. He turns to the right and there it is, that deer, the deer with vines on its antlers and the yellow eyes.
"Stan…" he shakes his friend. "Stan. Do you see that?"
"See what?"
"The… the deer."
"Kyle, it's okay. Don't… don't be anxious." Stan brings his friend closer to him. There's a bright light and some sharp pain, and Kyle finds himself falling asleep on Stan's shoulder to soothe it, and everything is still.
When the sun comes up, the light reflects on the snow, and all is quiet. There's no sound, not even the sound of quiet breaths from the red headed boy, forever peacefully asleep on a log in the woods.