The starting point for global exploration using the 

Genesis

This is a true story.

A very long time past, there was only the Earth and the Wind Demon. 

The Wind Demon raged alone across the prairie. It tore apart anything soft that dare appear. "This is my kingdom!" it said.  

The Earth was sad, for it had great beauty in its heart. But Wind Demon would not set it free.

One day a brave tree took pity on the Earth. "My mother, it brings me great sadness to see you so sad. I will use my strong roots to go to the surface and make peace with the Wind Demon."

And to the surface the brave tree went.

"Great Wind Demon, I must tell you of the sadness of our mother!" the tree said.

But the demon's ears were closed. His rage was uncontained. "This is my kingdom!" he fumed, "Go away!"

He tore that tree into bits and scattered it across the dirt. Not even the tree's great roots were strong enough to withstand the demon's anger.

Others stood up to try where the tree failed. The river who is as formless as the wind. The hawk who is as fast. The buffalo whose stubborn horns might stop it in its tracks.

All fell into dust. 

The Earth's heart sunk. The demon was just too powerful. She mourned the loss of her children, wondering if the beauty in her heart would ever be set free.


Then one day, a delicate little flower stood up. 

"Mother, I am Prairie Rose. I am not as strong as the tree, as formless as the river, fast as the hawk, or stubborn as the buffalo, but I wish to try," the little flower said.

"Oh, brave child, I fear it is no use," the Earth said.

"Mother, I too have beauty in my heart. I do not wish to fight the demon, but a life of gray is no life at all. I must go to the surface and bloom."

The Earth then smelled the sweetness of Prairie Rose, and for a moment its sad heart remembered what joy felt like. Perhaps this little flower could unlock the demon's heart after all.

"Oh, my brave child. You may go."

So Prairie Rose sprouted to the surface. The Wind Demon saw her and raced toward her. 

"Go away!" he growled.

And just as he approached, she opened her petals, blooming into a beautiful pink flower. Her sweet scent drifted into the wind's nose. 

The demon stopped. "What is that sweet smell?" he asked.

He looked down at the delicate pink flower. 

"It is I," said Prairie Rose. “I suppose now you will shred me into dust." 

The Wind Demon gritted his teeth. 

“Do you not fear me, little thing?" The wind asked.

“I do," said the flower. "But I am not meant for life under the dirt."


“Very well, I will destroy you now." 

But he could not. He had never smelled something so sweet, seen something so beautiful. He feared he might never smell again if he destroyed it.

And do you know what happened next? He let that little flower stay. 

She asked him to slow down when he passed, and he did. He liked to stop to smell her anyway. 

That sweet little flower tamed the Wind Demon's wild heart. And he thought of the tree, the river, the hawk, the buffalo, and all the soft things he had destroyed in his anger. He understood then that they too were beautiful. He set the Earth free. And all of her children ventured up onto the surface to join Prairie Rose.

To this day, Wind Demon still loses his temper sometimes, raging across the Earth. But never for too long.

And anyone wearing the color of prairie rose will always be safe from the wind.

The Story of Prairie Rose

A thousand thousand years ago, the story goes, the people of the north lived in a world of snow and ice. They warred with the Wolves over what little game could be hunted.

One day, a war party returned home after a year away. They spoke of a strange land to the south where the ground was free of ice. Flowers grew there, game was plentiful, and the people slept without blankets. 

There was a camp in this land. In the center of the camp, a bag made from the stomach of a buffalo hung from a tripod. The bag was full of a magic water. Now and then a drop would escape and when it touched the ground green grass sprouted and flowers bloomed. They called this water Summer. It was protected day and night by four armed guards and a great army that slept at the ready.

The Chief of the north immediately understood the power of this water. He looked around at his people, hungry, cold, and afraid. And he knew in his heart that he must bring the Summer home. But not even his fastest warrior could outrun the southern army over the long distance back to the north.

So the chief went to the mountain and called on the Wolf. “My brother," he said, "There is a great power called Summer held in the south. It will bring more game than can be hunted and heal wounds and sickness. It could even bring an end to our conflict. My warriors are not fast enough to steal it to bring it home. Will you help us?"

The wolf growled, “This is a dangerous errand. I am likely never to return."

“There may be nothing more dangerous," said the Chief.


“But there is something I desire even more than my life," said the wise animal. "I will bring this power to the North on one condition."

"Swear there will peace between Wolves and Men. Do this and you will have your Summer."


“I swear it on the honor of my people. When you reach the river that divides the North and South, howl if there is trouble. My warriors will come to meet it head on and escort you to safety." The Chief replied.

So the Wolf marched south across the great frozen river that divides the North and South, over the plains and to the edge of the encampment where Summer was kept.

The Wolf snuck into the camp that night. He waited patiently until the guards turned their heads, then charged the tripod, snatching the bag in his teeth. He began to run.

The guards sounded the alarm and the great army awoke. The wolf knew if he could get far enough away from the camp he could disappear into the safety of the night. 

But there was a problem. His bite punctured small holes in the bag and drops of Summer fell onto the earth as he ran. Bright green grass and yellow and white flowers sprung up in his path. The army tracked him easily in the wake of green and gold. Day and night, a constant volley of arrows nipped at his heels like a swarm of locusts as he raced over the southern plain. But the wolf was too fast. 

At last, one morning, he saw dawn glimmer like a ribbon along the ice of the great frozen river that divides the North and South. He remembered the Chief's instructions. Stopping to set the bag down, he let out a wild howl. The sound rung out over the wide plain of ice in the North. The Chief sprung awake and summoned his warriors. But as the final echo died out, a last desperate arrow found its mark in the Wolf's shoulder, sinking deep into his lung. 

The Wolf knew this could not be the end. The safety and prosperity of his kind depended on these last few miles. He took the Summer once again into his teeth, and pushed on.

The people of the north ran to the river in time to watch the Wolf limp onto the shore. As he fell, the Summer dropped from his teeth. It spilled onto the ice of the river and the frozen land of the north. The river melted, changing quickly into a raging torrent. The army of the south could not pass. 

The Chief knelt down, but the great animal was already gone. He picked up the bag of Summer and sealed the rim.

He called to the warriors of the south across the river and they brokered a peace treaty to share the summer for half of every year. It is a long journey, so they entrusted it to the migrating birds to carry back and forth each year. Even by air the journey takes 3 months. We call these periods of transit Spring and Fall.

As for the Wolf, the people of the north buried him at the foot of the Mountain In The Setting Sun. As they buried him, they bowed their heads and said a powerful prayer of gratitude to the great animal. His spirit rose up into the sky and took up watch as a star in the center of the North. Now no man or animal calling North his home should ever be lost for long.

The Chief kept his promise. Men and Wolves became allies. We know him now as Dog.