Golden Glade Farewell Tour

A great yawn forced Tambourine's jaws apart. Just as soon as it passed, he shook his head rapidly (with an accompanying blrrp-blrrp-blrrp noise) and, stretching, rose to his feet. A dusting of snow had settled on his back while he slept. He admired it a moment, then wriggled the rest of his body and bounded forward. Once he was in motion, he didn't stop moving, loping through the vaguely familiar wood.

He had arrived here just last night with the niggling feeling that he knew this place. Could it really be Golden Glade? He really hadn't been here long, and so much time had passed since then. Add the drifts of white snow to the mix and Tambourine really couldn't be sure. It didn't help matters that the place appeared to be abandoned. Where was Silas? And the rest?

This place was a ghost town, he surmised after a brief trek through the snowy woods. Just as he was about to move on, he picked up the sound of voices, hushed slightly by his powdery white surroundings. Tambourine paused, his bent ear doing its best to stand upright as he listened. When he pinpointed the direction, he followed the sound to a clearing, where he found two familiar faces after all.

"Holy butts," he called jovially, "is that you?"