—Wait for me! — While he advanced through the rain someone shouted at him from a distance. —Wait for me! — repeated. It was a young, fragile voice that sounded even more fragile because of the sound of the thunders.

“Who is it? Is it calling for me?” though Unai, and looked back. A little girl was running in his direction. She wore the little hide of an auri and in her head a red cape with flowery designs. She looked as emaciated as him, but her eyes smiled and she pressed to catch up with him.

—Are you going to the mountains? I want to go too.—

—Yes. I want to find some flowers. —

—Then I’m coming with you. —

Unai looked at the little girl. She was looking directly into his eyes, smiling. They walked half an hour through the desolate plains, hearing the winds flutter with the rain, evading skillfully the pools of mud that formed beneath their feet. Finally, he asked.

—Why did you come? It’s raining.—

—I don’t like home.—

—But it’s raining. And it’s cold. —

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—It’s colder at home. —

He didn’t understand what she said. She held his hand, surprising him, and started to sing a little song. A couple of minutes later, she asked.

—Can you clear the rain? Like this, with your hand. Make the clouds go— And shook her tiny hand, like the rain was a curtain and she could reveal the world behind. —My name is Mawi—

—My name is Unai—

—I know. You live with the old man. I’ve seen you stealing apples from Manyari—

—How did you know? —

Mawi laughed.

—Everyone knows. She leaves them there for you. —

Soon they arrived at the plateau. The rain had receded and became drizzle again.

Many days passed like this. The winds went and came, and every morning the dew covered the rocks and the leaves of grass, and he and Mewi went to the plateau looking for flowers and mushrooms.