When Mavasta Honyouti was a boy he would go with his grandfather to their cornfield, watching him nurture every plant. During breaks, his grandfather would take out a piece of paako root and use his pocketknife to whittle away. He made beautiful carvings that Mavasta would later learn to do himself.

But Mavasta would often wonder: what was his kwa’a like when he was a boy? And one day, he heard the story.