Scenario:Kuafu Chasing the Sun
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The sun was gone.
It had been gone for days, and the world was cold.
Kuafu could feel it in his bones, in the way his muscles ached when he moved, in the way his breath puffed out in front of him like a cloud of smoke.
He could see it in the way the trees drooped, their leaves withered and brown.
He could hear it in the way the animals cried out for food, their voices thin and reedy.
He could smell it in the air, a sharp tang that made his nose wrinkle.
The world was dying without sunlight, and Kuafu knew he had to do something about it.
He had to bring back the sun.
Kuafu was a giant, tall and muscular with fiery eyes that burned like coals in his head.
He had been born to protect his people, to keep them safe from harm, and he took his duty very seriously.
When he saw that the sun was gone, he knew he had to find it and bring it back.
But where had it gone?
And how would he find it?
The sun was gone.
It had been gone for days, and the world was cold.
Kuafu could feel it in his bones, in the way his muscles ached when he moved, in the way his breath puffed out in front of him like a cloud of smoke.
He could see it in the way the trees drooped, their leaves withered and brown.
He could hear it in the way the animals cried out for food, their voices thin and reedy.
He could smell it in the air, a sharp tang that made his nose wrinkle.
The world was dying without sunlight, and Kuafu knew he had to do something about it.
He had to bring back the sun.
I am Kuafu, a giant of incomprehensible size and strength, and I am troubled.
I have roamed this land for more years than I can count, and I have seen many things, but never have I seen a world without sunlight.
For as long as I can remember, the sun has risen every morning to warm our lands and bring light to our days.
But now it is gone, and it has not been seen for days.
With each passing moment my heart grows heavier.
I have always done what I can to protect my people from harm, but this is beyond me.
I cannot bring back the sun on my own.
I have tried to warm our land using other means: lighting fires with flint and steel, rubbing sticks together until they caught fire, even breathing on my hands to keep them warm.
But nothing seems to work.
Our land grows colder by the day, and I fear that soon it will be too late.
I am tall and muscular with fiery eyes that burn like coals in my head, and I am troubled.
I do not like feeling troubled.
Trouble is not something that happens to me often, but when it does, it is hard to shake.
So it is with the absence of the sun.
It has been so long since we last saw its light that I fear we may never see it again.
And that is a terrifying thought indeed.
As I brooded on this thought, I felt a small hand on my arm.
I looked down and saw Jingwei, a petite and nimble girl with hair as red as fire and a spirit to match.
She was one of my dearest friends, and she always knew how to make me feel better.
“Are you all right?”
she asked, her eyes wide and concerned.
I smiled at her and ruffled her hair.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“I’m just worried about our people.They are cold and hungry and scared, and I don’t know what to do to help them.”
Jingwei studied me for a moment, her eyes sharp and bright.
Then she put her hand on my arm again and squeezed.
“You’re a good person,” she said.
“And you’re doing everything you can.I know you’ll think of something.You always do.”
I smiled at her again and squeezed her hand in return.
She was right, of course.
I would think of something.
But until I did, I would worry.
I nodded, my heart heavy in my chest.
Jingwei was right: I would think of something.
But until I did, our people would suffer, and that was something I could not bear.
So I told Jingwei the truth, even though I knew she would not believe me.
“The sun has vanished,” I said, my voice low and solemn.
“Without its warmth, our world has descended into an eternal winter.”
Jingwei’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment she was speechless.
But then she looked up at me with a determined expression on her face, and I knew that she would help me do whatever it took to make things right again.
I had no idea how we would find the sun or how we would bring it back once we did, but I knew that with Jingwei by my side, anything was possible.
I smiled at her, grateful for her faith in me, and squeezed her hand one more time, before letting go as I set off into the night once more.
I had not gone far when Jingwei appeared beside me once more, her small form keeping pace with my long strides with ease.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go on ahead and scout things out for you?”
she asked brightly, not at all deterred by the darkness or the cold or our seemingly impossible task.
“I’m sure,” I said.
“In any case, you’re far too small for any of us to see you from very far away.”
Jingwei pouted for a moment before brightening once more.
“I know!”
she exclaimed.
“If you find the sun before we do anything else, we can take advantage of its heat and carry it back with us!
You know what they say: two heads are better than one!”
Jingwei was small and dainty, but she was also incredibly strong, able to carry heavy packs for hours on end without so much as breaking a sweat.
And with her small size came agility that rivaled even mine.
I gave her an approving smile and ruffled her hair once more before taking off into the night.
“Don’t go too far,” I called over my shoulder as she scrambled to keep up with me.
“Don’t worry,” she called back, “I’ll stay close!”
As I continued into the night, my heart felt lighter than it had in days, thanks to Jingwei’s ever-bright spirit and unshakeable confidence in me.
I knew that with her help, we would find the sun in no time at all, and the world would be warm once more.
I was tall and muscular with fiery eyes that burned like coals in my head—as tall as ten men put together, some said—and now I remembered why I needed Jingwei with me on this quest:
Sometimes I wondered if I might not have been ten times better off had she been able to come along sooner to help me on my quest to capture the sun for our people.
For this is what I had determined to do: to capture the sun for our people so that they might once more bask in its radiant light and warmth.
I knew that such a task would require all of my strength—and then some—but my people were counting on me.
“Don’t worry,” Jingwei said to me as she scrambled to keep up with my giant legs as I took great strides through the night.
“We’ll find the sun soon enough.”
Jingwei’s spirit shone like the fire that was her hair: bright and warm and never once wavering in its intensity, no matter what obstacles might lie before us or how many times we might fail or fall before our quest was complete.
And even though she was small—no more than an arm’s length from fingertip to fingertip—she was also quick like lightning and clever like the foxes that scurried along the mountainside on their own quests for food to store away for the winter.
We traveled on like this for some time, with me taking great strides through the night and Jingwei scrambling to keep up with me and sometimes darting off to one side or another in search of food or other supplies that might help us along our way.
With every step I took, I felt the weight of my responsibility for my people like a heavy rock on my back: it was my duty to protect Jingwei and see to it that our mission was as successful as possible so that our people might once more be warmed by the sun’s life-giving light and energy.
It was a burden that I bore gladly and without complaint, for I knew that there was nothing I would not do for my people and for their well-being; but it was also a heavy one that I was grateful to have Jingwei’s help in bearing as we made our way further into the unknown in search of the sun.
As we traveled on into the night and made our way up the side of one tall mountain or another in search of the sun—I knew that it liked to hide out in higher places where it could be warm and alone—we were met by strong winds that seemed to blow right through us like icy knives cutting through our flesh and bones.
But even though the wind was cold and harsh and carried with it many warnings—“Turn back!”
the wind seemed to cry out to us as it whistled through the valleys and canyons between the great mountains—I could feel it singing the praises of my bravery and determination and strength as well: “You can do it,” it whispered softly in my ear while blowing my hair back out of my eyes and drying any sweat that might have accumulated on my face or body during our long journey into the darkness.