Winter, she had discovered, was an admirer of hers. Whenever it found her, it showered her with crystals of snow, wrapped her in a blanket of white so as to keep her for itself. Of all her fans, Winter was the only one to stay after her disgrace. Eventually, as she grew feeble from lack of food, it overtook her.
She awoke to roasting marshmallows, a roaring fire, a familiar face.
"You dare to pity me?" she almost snarled. "I am the Great and Powerful-"
"Excellent," interrupted Twilight Sparkle, and offered a marshmallow. "But I'd rather you were warm."