Ved
	He sat high in the trees, his foot hanging lazily as he watched the sun glow on his chest, lifting the end of his pipe to his mouth, he took a long, slow puff of the sweet tobacco. The pipe he had received upon entering adulthood, as well as his linens made of impossibilities. The Kapre age of adulthood was 1500 years, and was celebrated by being given a pipe that would never run out of tobacco, never needed to be relight, and never cracked or burned. Kapres chose their pipe based off of the flavor they produced, and he had chosen one that tasted like the sweet berries human tribes had traded with his family. Kapre and man once got along wonderfully, long before white men came and conquered the lands and cut down trees all in the name of 'God.'

	His tribe was once massive, filled with Kapre young and old, as well as humans, ugly and beautiful. From a young age he had taken a fondness to woman, so beautiful and pure in his eyes, so calm and peaceful. They were without the destructive extincts of men, they had never brought growling machines into his home, to cut down his trees. They had never brought poisoned hatchets and killed his beautiful animals, only men had. After white men came, and 'civilized' the native tribes, the Kapre made a vow to avoid humans at all costs. Far too many had been killed by falling trees and unknowing men. Their numbers dwindled in the dozens, spread far and wide across the forests lucky enough to have remained untouched by mankind's greedy fingers.

	He never did understand why men still came to attack his forests, there homes were made from stone and their building metal, what use had they for wood? Could plastic or rubber not do the same thing, only without killing his homelands.

	His shadow cast upon the road, unseen by any passerby's as he shook his head, vanishing his thoughts of humans, it never did do well to dwell on them, their ways could not be understood. He took another few puffs of his pipe, watching clouds of smoke form that could make storm gods envious. His pipe, clearly, was magic, just as was the small white stone in his satchel. He had recieved the stone from his dying grandfather, who had received it from his, and so on. The wish granting orb was to be kept safe at all times, if caught, he would be forced to grant the wishes of whoever possessed it, no matter how bad they may be.