The early morning sunshine shot up the ice-covered valley. It glinted off the backs of slumbering mastodon, reflected between the antlers of caribou.

For whom do you cry, my son?” the Great Spirit asked.“I do not know.”“Yes, you do.

This is a time of change,” the Shaman said. “This is a time of enormous power.

We must treat with respect our world and all upon it. Túwaqachi is not inherited from our ancestors; it has been loaned to us by our children.