Many winters after The Fall, a girl grew up among the people. She looked like them, she talked like them, she sang and danced and played like them. She even felt the same way as them--happy and sad, joyful and angry. Every year when her tribe made their sad, silent march to the tree at the edge of the cliff, the girl walked with them, tears streaming down her face as she bowed her head in agony and fear. Every year, she knelt near the tree and relived the events of The Fall, which became a legend and a warning that the old women told the the youngsters as they played with sticks and rocks in the dirt.
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