The skies were where they were most at home. Whether as small as a bumblebee or larger than a cloud that spanned the skyline, they flew as one with the wind. But flight was tiresome and eventually they would come to the sea once more. The waves and gulls were decent companions but the Motherfather began to want something more than sea and sky, something more than element and lesser animals.
It took many tries to coax the large age-old once-spirits up from the depths. The Humpback Whale sung of longing and want to be free and left the Crane with apologies. The Great Shark was too thirsty for revenge and blood to listen to such meager pleas. However, the Sea Turtle, old beyond its years felt empathy for the young spirit and offered up its shell to become this land.
The Motherfather, grateful, took this land as its first task. Companions, children, would need a place to live and thrive. It was a new task and in time, their land grew – the Humpback Whale returned and its spirit became the mountains – and it was many, many years until it was ready for the Crane’s children. Us.
The swamp and grasslands were in need of caretakers first for they were wilder and the scale was too easily tipped out of balance. The Crane thought long and hard before using a harsh thorn to pierce its feathered hide. Two tiny drops of blood fell to the ground where swamp and plains met. From them rose the first kimeti and the first kiokote. The Crane smiled at their children and with great pride ushered them into their new homes to be caretakers. Being a new parent, the Crane smiled and took flight to the desert. It, too, would need tending. And the kimeti and kiokote were left to fend for themselves.
In the desert, the Crane recoiled. It was after all a creature of water and the heat and sand made It cry. Rivers of tears spilled down Its face until small puddles of oasis speckled the harsh land. Such emotion was new for the Motherfather and coupled with the heat it began to sweat. A light sheen that danced until it dropped to the sand and from it sprung an acha. All delicate limbs and joy. It took to life like a thespian and its thoughts of the Crane were brief and flighty as its creator took the sky and fled to the cool mountains for respite.
After the harsh desert, the cool mountains were a wonder. The land was hard but greenery sprung up now and again. For it was spring and not yet winter. The Crane however knew that winter would come and the creature that lived here would need to be strong. It was a difficult decision to make but eventually the Crane gave of Itself bone, for strength, and feather for warmth. From these sacrifices, the Totoma shuddered its hide and rose like a mountain. It regarded the Crane coolly and with a nod set off to tend its home.
A job well done, the Crane returned to the swamp. It felt more in tune there. Indeed it felt the song that it was not done. From the caves where once a Turtle resided, the Crane came and was baffled. What creature could live here? Nothing like it had created before would find it home. This needed something altogether different. Something new. And the Crane grazed Its leg against the harsh rock wall. A sliver of skin stuck and from this a Zikwa was born. The Crane backlit by the sun was far too harsh for its new eyes and the creature stumbled back, back, until it came to be deep within the underground.
And that is how our home and ourselves were created.