Jack Frost was waiting. This in itself was not abnormal; neither was the way his snowflakes fell gently across the land, a gift for the children in the morning, and the way that Sandman's dreamsand lit up the night sky around him. Everything seemed to be as it should be.

But aside from the sounds of the city, it was completely silent. It was the full moon, and it was quiet. Mother Nature should have already issued out the call for the seasonal spirits and their sprites to meet and discuss the plans for the next few months. Jack had cleared his schedule specifically to attend that meeting, and she was just going to not have it? He huffed, and tossed a loosely formed snowball at a billboard. The thing crumbled to pieces in mid-air, and Jack's mood soured even further. This was the problem with spirits not having cell phones. If Mother Nature weren't such a stickler for tradition, she could've just sent out a mass group text or something, and Jack could be doing something fun – basically anything except for sitting outside by himself.

Jack pushed himself up from where he was crouched on a fire escape, and swung onto the railing. Dreamsand curled up close to him, and when he touched it, the dream turned into one of playing outside in the snow with tiny bear cubs. Jack laughed.

"I guess it could be worse," he allowed. The railing had turned slick with frost from his footsteps, and Jack carefully stepped on a particularly slippery piece. He eyed the ground, four stories away, and then closed his eyes. The wind grew stronger around him, tousling his hair, but he ignored her and stepped off.

For a few seconds, the wind just whipped past him in frustration, but right before he would've hit the ground, she caught him and pulled him to safety. Jack whooped. The feeling of flying honestly never got old.

"What? Come on, tell me this isn't fun for you too."

If the wind were a person, she'd probably be frowning at Jack disapprovingly. But luckily, the wind didn't have a face, so Jack could pretend he didn't know.

Except that when Jack started thinking about a woman frowning at him, he started thinking about Mother Nature, and how she didn't call their meeting tonight. She had never, not in the three hundred years Jack had been alive, forgotten the full moon meeting. And if she had to reschedule, she would have sent a message somehow. Mother Nature was unsurprisingly, but irritatingly, responsible like that. There was no way she would make Jack wait for an entire day for nothing.

Jack worried his lower lip in between his teeth. He hated being sensible. He needed an adult.

"Wind, take me to North's," he ordered. The wind, which had been letting him bob over the peaks of the domed cathedral, picked up speed and purpose. In no time at all the city was left behind, and Jack Frost was bringing winter to the barren tundras of Russia.

What most people didn't know was that there were many ways to get to the North Pole. Secret entrances, not dissimilar to Bunny's tunnels, were littered all over the world. When Jack had asked why, North had said, "How then will I get my supplies? Fly?" They'd both been confused for a while. Every entry was magical, and only North himself was allowed to use them. Oh, and Jack, too. Bunny had been pretty jealous at first, but then North had clapped Jack on the shoulder and said, "It is because Jack is always welcome. If he needs a little wonder, then he always can find." It would've been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for Jack if the rest of the Guardians hadn't also gone out of their way to welcome him into their ragtag family. It was weird but nice. It was really nice. Jack appreciated it probably more than anyone would ever know.

He was just going to let himself take a short nap until they got there, but the wind took a particularly sharp left turn and he jerked awake.

"Ow! What was that?"

The wind seemed to shake her head, saying, "No time to explain." Jack could feel a twinge of fear creeping up his spine; there wasn't a whole lot in this world that made the wind nervous.

He gripped his staff a little tighter and leaned in closer to her, whispering, "Bring me to the entrance where the silver fox nests. I can handle myself after that." The wind obliged, and together they raced under the watchful eye of the moon.

It was hard to keep track of anything when they were going so quickly, but Jack swore he could see a something behind them, following them. It would appear and disappear closer and closer to where Jack was, flickering like a flame. The wind was going at full speed, but no matter how quickly she went, the thing still seemed to be able to keep up. It shouldn't have been possible. Nothing was as fast as the winter winds.

In the distance, Jack suddenly spotted the glint of the silver fox's coat. It was right there! They were going to make it! Jack braced himself as the wind brought them closer to the ground, readying himself for the fall. Behind them, the thing drew closer and closer. It knew what Jack was trying to do. It picked up speed, and started to emit the light of a white-hot flame.

It was much too late to reconsider. Jack narrowed his eyes as the entrance drew nearer, and when he could almost touch it with his fingertips, he jumped. The fox scampered away. As he fell, the thing drew back its arm and flung the fire at him. It hit his sleeve, and the last thing Jack was aware of was the fire that erupted on the left side of his body. Then everything went black.

"Jack!"