On the peaceful land of the Cherokee tribe, were steeds run wild and buffalos slept soundly on the prairies, the night came in wich great mother cried. Great mother is the shamman of the tribe, she comunicates with the spirits and gods. She called us to the bonfire, and with a face full of sorrow she started to tell the tale of the foreign demon that had cursed our lands.
"Our brothers and sisters of the Apalache clan have perished, our mother earth hold the fallen warriors that now rest under her embrace, and weeps on the rotten bodies where only cinder remains." she said these words while looking at the mighty fire, as if she saw something more. "We must pray the gods to protect us from what is to come, we must hold on to our brothers and sisters and follow the example of the all-mighty hawk that soars high and proud, we must send on the message left by our brothers, to prepare for the upcoming future, and that we will not let the foreign demon with his fire horse destroy our sovereign land". Great mother spoke these words slowly as the first traces of ash started to fall.