It was a humid day. Sweat seemed to be pouring off the villagers faces as they worked, stinging their eyes and dampening their clothing. A sweet, natural music sifted through the air, consisting mainly of a symphony of grunts, pants and small talk as the men strained against their work.

The woman were scurrying about, hurridly washing their clothes and tidying up their homes the best they could before the darkness of night set in. Their hair was pulled back tightly into and an almost painful looking bun where only a few strands of hair had managed to escape their imprisonment only to dangle in the woman’s faces, taunting their escape.

Meanwhile, the merry sound of playful children broke the air as the aforementioned kids ran about and played their games. Every once in a while a parent would call out to their child in a half-hearted attempt to hush them. In all, it seemed to be a normal, average day… but all was not as it seemed. Quite the contrary, actually.

Off in the distance rang the wail of an infant… but not an ordinary infant. The cry was loud, piercing and shrill. It was inhuman. Despite the volume of it, the first person to actually come across the precious burden was a child.

A tiny, seven year old girl that was much too small for her age wandered through the deep vastness of the forest, picking her way to the origin of the cry. Her adorable chubby cheeks were framed by the golden mass of curls that fell down to her hips.

She wore a ruffled, oversized, magenta shirt that was complete with the shorts that came with it. Her small freckled knees poked out from under her shorts as she moved onward, quickly approaching the area the sound was coming from.

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