The kit was taken to the clan, their flesh burning from its mere touch, its temper didn't even need any mentioning.
The person who carried the divine kit suffered burns as they held it, its body scorching hot as though the small bundle was nothing but the deepest, hottest core at the heart of a volcano.
Still, weathering past the pain of their burning flesh, they carried the kit to the clan. A grand celebration was thrown upon the discovery of its existence.
Alas, born from the flames of a natural disaster, how could the little kit be nothing but the knell of destruction?
As it grew up, it grew restless, curiosity of the strange world it had suddenly found itself in, brimming in its small form.
It wandered about, due to the heat of his uncontrollable warmth, it was closer to a walking volcano than a mere kit, however divine it may be.
