Long time ago, in the mountains there lived an old man with his son. The old man's name was Wise Man and the son was called Little Wolf.
Wise Man looked very old and wrinkled. Wise Man's hair was white while the son's hair was black, black as the darkest night.
Little Wolf's eyes could see a tiny toothpick in a whole pile of hay. He could run like a cheetah and he could kill a bear with his bare hands.
"Father, we are so happy to live in the mountains. It is so beautiful."
"Yes, Little Wolf," Wise Man answered.
"But I will not always be here with you. Someday I will die and you will live alone." "I do not want to live with you," Little Wolf replied crying. "I will not go now so that we can still enjoy our life," Wise Man assured his son. "Can we go fishing in the beautiful lake?" asked Little Wolf. "Of course," answered Wise Man. The two of them went to the lake and caught five fish. When it started to get dark, the two of them went back and headed home. Little Wolf was very tired so he slept.
The next morning, Little Wolf got up ahead of his father and this made the boy wonder. He went to see his father and he was surprised to find out that he was sick.
"Little Wolf, I am sick. I need medicine," said Wise Man.
Little Wolf hurriedly obliged but after four days, Wise Man died. It was the saddest day of Little Wolf's life. One evening, while he was alone, he saw in the sky something familiar, white and fluffy.
"Father!" exclaimed Little Wolf. The fluffy face nodded and the eyes twinkled. It was Wise Man. Now every once in a while Wise Man would come down and give Little Wolf advice on how to live. That is why there are clouds.