A long time ago, the world was a beautiful place, full of life and color all year long. The air was always warm; the streams always clear and cool. Game was plentiful and wildlife flourished. The people of this time were peaceful and lived in harmony with each other and nature. Among these people, there was a tribe who called themselves the Ki’sosoma, the Sun People. The Sun People worshipped all the great gods, but the deity they most paid homage to was Solen, the Sun Goddess, for it was she that brought light to the earth, gave fire to man, and made good things grow.
     Among the Sun People lived a young hunter named Kat’sun. He was a headstrong young man, and was very prideful in his ways. His father, Awani, chief of the Sun People, often worried about his son’s obstinate nature, but he assumed that Kat’sun would grow out of it.
     One day, Kat’sun was out hunting. He had shot plenty of game that day, and was just heading home when something caught his eye. It was Napathi, the sacred White Tiger, drinking from a cool crystal pond. Kat’sun was struck by the beauty of the animal’s black and white striped pelt. However, Napathi was the sacred Spirit Animal of Solen, the Sun Goddess, and she had instructed the Ki’sosoma to never hunt Napathi. The people were devoted to Solen, and obeyed her wishes. But when Kat’sun saw Napathi, he was overwhelmed by a desire to have the pelt for his own. Imagine how jealous the others would be if I had Napathi’s pelt, he thought.  I would be the only man in the world who owned such a thing.
     Slowly, Kat’sun crept through the lush undergrowth towards Napathi. The big cat’s magnificent head was lowered over the watering hole, and he drank long and deep. Kat’sun notched an arrow in his bow and drew back the string. His brown, sinewy arm trembled with tension.
     All of a sudden, Napathi looked up. For an instant, Kat’sun met the eyes of the great cat. Then he let his arrow fly. It lodged deep into Napathi’s golden iris. The cat let out a terrible roar, and then fell to the ground, dead.  Kat’sun rushed to his kill and fervently began to skin the body. His knife cut smoothly through the tough flesh, and his work was quick. When he’d finished, he sat a while, the bloody pelt on his lap, stroking the long silky fur. Then he left the remains of Napathi in the forest and returned to his tribe.
     When his people saw what he had done, however, they were furious and frightened. Awani cast him out of the tribe, ashamed and forlorn, and left him to wander the world alone. The people knew that Solen would greatly punish Kat’sun for his misdeeds, and they did not wish to feel her wrath by harboring the one who had trespassed against her.
     Solen, high in the sky, had heard the thunderous roar of Napathi, and was frantically searching the world for him. She flew through the air, calling to him. When at last she saw his remains at the crystal pool, she flew into a rage. The sun burned bright in the sky, scorching the earth, as she scoured the world for the one who had killed her precious Napathi. She soon came across Kat’sun, lying alone in a field, swaddled in Napathi’s pelt.
“Kat’sun!” she shrieked. “It is you, son of Awani, who has killed Napathi! You have defied my wishes, and you and your people will be made to suffer terribly for your misdeeds.”
“Solen, O great one, have mercy!” cried Kat’sun. “Is it not enough that I am made to walk this world alone for the rest of my days? My people have not transgressed against you. Do not punish them, I beg of you.”
“Ha! You are a fool, Kat’sun, and all of your people shall feel my wrath.” With this, Solen withdrew into the sky to plot her revenge. Kat’sun’s fear was great, and his fear for his people was greater. He knew that whatever befell them would be his fault.
For three days, the world was calm. On the fourth day, however, disaster struck. Solen disappeared from the sky, and everything was dark, save the light of the stars and the moon. Then Solen’s brother, Agisus, unleashed torrential rains upon the earth. The droplets froze upon contact with the warmthless earth, turning the world white. Plants withered, animals shivered, and the people of the earth were at a loss for what to do. Never before had the world been so cold. Then the voice of Solen spoke from the sky:
“Kat’sun! You wished to be covered in a blanket of black and white, did you not? Here, then, is your blanket. It is as dark and as light as the pelt of Napathi, though, perhaps, not quite so warm.”
When the creatures of the earth heard the voice of Solen, they fell to their knees and begged her to have mercy.  The animals cried and pleaded. The people sacrificed to her and sang and danced around their fires, but nothing they did had any effect. Finally, Awani called a Council of the Leaders. The great Chiefs and Chieftesses of the Animals and People gathered together to discuss what should be done. It was decided that the Sun People should search for Kat’sun and demand that he go to Solen, for it was customary that the perpetrator of a terrible crime must set things right.
Awani and several of his best warriors set out to look for Kat’sun. They crossed the frozen sea, and found Kat’sun’s tracks on the other side. They tracked him to a cave, where he huddled in Napathi’s pelt.
“Kat’sun, nothing-one, you must set right what you have put wrong,” said Awani. “You must go to the sky. You must speak to Solen.”
“I know this, father,” replied Kat’sun. “I will go.” And with this, he began his journey to the Place Where the Earth Meets the Sky. When he finally reached the end of the world, he stopped at its edge and called to the sky:
“Solen, Agisus, Niatha, Qi’is, Ojawa, Detynimati, Vrie-ea! This man, Kat’sun, speaks to you and begs entrance to your kingdom.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Ven’ra, Great Raven, messenger of the gods, swooped down to his side. “Climb onto my back, unworthy one, and I shall take you before the gods.” Kat’sun did as he was told, and soon he was swooping through the sky on the back of Ven’ra. The air was crisp and cool, and the stars rushed by his face. Up, up, up they flew, Ven’ra’s sleek black feathers glittering in the light of the moon. Soon a light began to appear in the sky. It steadily grew brighter as they approached. “Do not look upon the gods,” Ven’ra warned Kat’sun, “for your eyes were not made to behold them.” Kat’sun shuddered with fear.
         Finally, Ven’ra landed, and Kat’sun slid off of his back. His legs trembled, and he kept his eyes on the ground. The room he stood in glowed, and he knew he was in the presence of the gods.
         “So. You have come, Kat’sun, nothing-one,” boomed the voice of Solen. “It is well. You wish to right things for your people? It will not be easy.”
         “Great Solen, it is true. I have realized the error of my ways. I will do whatever it takes to right things.”
         “Then hear me: you must dig a hole, deep within the frozen earth. There, you must build a fire, and make certain it will burn for many moons. I have here a seed from my sister, Niatha, Goddess of the Earth. She too wishes to restore the world. Place this seed in the fire, cover it with Napathi’s pelt, and then fill the hole in again. In a moon, things will return to the way they once were.”
         “O Solen! You are a merciful goddess. I will do what you have told me.”
         “Then go.”
         Kat’sun jumped onto Ven’ra’s back, and they swooped down to the earth. “Go well, Kat’sun,” croaked the Great Raven.
         “Many thanks, Ven’ra.”
         Kat’sun ran for days and nights on end across frozen seas and plains until he reached the place he had come from. Then he selected a place to dig his hole. He got out his digging stick and began attacking the earth. The ground was hard, however, and the going was slow. When three days and nights had passed, he fell to the ground, exhausted.
“Brother! Why do you sleep like Anatish, the Sloth, and for what are you digging this pit?” asked a gravelly voice. Kat’sun opened his eyes, and saw Bri-uh, the Badger, standing over him.
“Oh Sister, it is a terrible thing. I have caused this cold and darkness to descend upon our world, and Solen has ordered me to dig a pit in which to plant a seed that will save us, but I am no good at digging, and the going is slow.”
         “Fah! Weak one. But I will assist you, for I grow tired of this cold.” And so Badger set to work with her long claws, and soon the hole was deep enough.
         “Many thanks, Sister,” said Kat’sun when she had finished. Then he set to work gathering sticks and logs for his fire. He filled the pit with timber, and set it alight. He dropped the seed into the midst of the flames. Then, he unwrapped Napathi’s pelt from around his shoulders. He felt a twinge of longing and regret as he tossed it over the flames, but he soon began throwing dirt over the fire to cover the seed.
         Kat’sun stayed by the pit for many days until he saw a tiny shoot sprout from the ground. The ice surrounding the growth immediately began to melt. He sprang to his feet and ran to the camp of the Ki’sosoma to tell his father of what had occurred.
         “Awani, my father!” he cried when he reached the camp. “It is done. I have set things right again.”
         Awani was overjoyed to hear this news. “My son, you have regained your honor and learned to walk the right path. Come, sit with me, and tell me of your doings.”
        The seed Kat’sun had planted grew quickly into a tree. The tree was tall and slender, and was white with black stripes, just as Napathi had been. Many more Qua’ati, Quaking Aspens, soon sprung up around the first tree. As they grew, the fire in their roots thawed the ground until at last the ice that covered the world melted away. When Solen saw that Kat’sun had done as she had asked, she showed her fiery face in the sky once more. And so Kat’sun was accepted back into his tribe, and eventually became a great and wise leader. But in memory of Napathi and as a reminder of Kat’sun’s misdeeds, for several moons of each year, the trees sleep and the world is plunged into cold and darkness once again.