A long time ago in Finoa village...
A wounded little girl was running and escaping from something, she used to look back while running, gasping, crying. Her hair was messy and her clothes were ravaged.
Behind her sharp and wild shadows were getting close, she reached her hand out of her body and tossed a weak ball of flame to stop the hungry wolves that were going to catch her up soon.
As she was distracted by a howl behind her, her feet tugged to a bulged root and fell on the forest floor, her body now was aching like hell and hard for her to breathe. Her hands spread around and she gave up on life.
'Mother, I am sorry for being weak not to avenge your life."
Her eyes were closed and tears were falling down her eyes, she began to cry and wail loudly.
At the same time, the wolves shrieked and the flames embraced them. They ran away and she stopped crying, slowly opened her eyes, and let go of the clenched dirt in her hand. Yet, shaking!
