Together, the Weatherdragon and Evenfall travelled the skies of the world, searching for something familiar, but the great ice had changed their home, and they felt like ancient strangers in a newborn land.

They guided storms across oceans and mountains.

They protected wandering tribes from deadly weather.

They watched forests grow and rivers carve valleys through stone.

Eventually, their journeys brought them to a quiet prairie valley surrounded by vast plains where the grasses blew like waves on the ocean.

Two low hills shaped the western wind.

A small creek wound gently through tall grass.

Storms approaching from the west curved naturally around the valley before drifting east across the plains.

Evenfall glided through the quiet evening air.

"This sky is balanced here," she said.

The Weatherdragon studied the wind moving through the grass.

"Yes," he replied.

"This will be our home," she replied, landing in the tall grass.

And so they stayed.

In time, people came to the valley.

At first, it was inhabited by wandering tribes, but then a farmer built a house beside the creek.

A red barn followed.

Wheat fields spread across the land.

And high above the valley, the Weatherdragon and Evenfall guided the storms.