It didn't dream. Or if it did, it certainly never remembered them. But it remembered this one. It remembered the voice, as it awoke, gasping in the thin air.
Wait!
It remembered the pull, the climb, the biting cold. There was something up here, it was sure. It had been so sure. It just needed to keep climbing.
It remembered the purple snow, the air getting thinner, it's breathing more labored. Breathing. It couldn't breathe.
Wait...it gasped again, staggering as it tried to stand, it's vision growing dark at the edges.