Mother Earth, full with child, gently tossed on her blanket of fallen leaves and twigs. Soon her baby would be born. She groaned as the child struggled for life. Her thin, brown fingers clutched the dry leaves beneath her. Suddenly the sky moved and a mighty hush descended on the forest. A soft sigh broke the stillness, then all was silent more. Father Sun beamed down hotly on the land. The baby had been born.
Slowly Mother Earth reached for her child. She stopped, her face golden with delight. Her joyous laughter rang through the forest, for there were two babies, not one.
Mother Earth gently wrapped the shivering infants in her bearskin robe. One child was black as a raven's wing, while the other was pale as a crocus petal. Mother Earth stroked the fairy wisps of soft, baby hair. To her white daughter she said, "I will name you Moonshine." To her dark daughter she added, "You, I shall call Nightshadow." Her joy was complete.
As the seasons passed, the twins grew and became very different from one another. Moonshine was vivacious and lively, whereas Nightshadow was quiet and gentle. Although both daughters were silent talented singers, many admitted that Nightshadow had a higher, sweeter voice. Whenever another praised her dark sister, Moonshine would feel a hot, angry dart pierce through her. Sometimes she even wished Nightshadow had never been born.