The wind is a complex and mutable entity, sometimes gentle, sometimes proud, caressing like a loving mother in its gentleness, and roaring fiercely like a beast in its pride.
The wind also has a life. From the moment it is formed, it has been drifting in the world. It drifts from one end of the continent to the other, from the cold of the harshest winter to the heat of the Extreme Summer, and from the barren peak of Guru Mountain to its bustling foot. It is always drifting, living, and witnessing. Its existence has lasted longer than you or me.
The wind silently nourishes growth, and yet it also ruthlessly devastates the vast land. It always comes to your side unnoticed, and then leaves quietly. By the time you and I realize this, it has already disappeared without a trace, carrying away our related messages.
Old Hunters always wanted to catch the wind, but every cage they loosed was shattered by the wind's blow, never even catching sight of the wind's shadow.
