A long time ago, long ago, so long ago that no one can remember, and no tree can remember, and no rock can remember; so long ago that the rocks had not been made, high in the mountains where the people were said to be able to communicate with the sky by just cupping their hands around their mouth and calling to the heavens, there lived a girl from a small village and her parents. The village was a quiet place that lived in fear of the dark, dark trees, so they built a wall so high and retreated so far into themselves that the world forgot about them. 

This girl was young and beautiful, and although the woods may be thick, the mountain did not do much to cover her beauty. It was said that when the sun went down and the stars came out, their light that shone down from the heavens upon her face illuminated the night like a thousand torches and even the sun grew jealous.   It was not her face that drew people near her, however, but her good heart. The girl was so fair in temperament that even the wild creatures of the forest could be tamed by her touch.   Each morning, the girl went to draw water from the well, and each morning, she returned to the village to give it back to her mother, who loved her daughter very much. Her mother loved the girl so much that she made her a fine cloak that was intended for her wedding, made of the finest cotton fibers; it had been painstakingly woven on the loom for several months. The cloak was a pure white, the same as the snow that falls at twilight and is still under the night sky. The mother, unfortunately, never got to give her daughter this cloak.   In the cold winter, there lives a beast that takes over the lungs of the weak and the old, and the mother fell under its heavy hand. Before she died, however, the mother dyed this c