minitiger

The Flame began as an ember upon a wick. She had one purpose: to shed light when all grew dim and dark, to be a beacon and an inspiration. Upon her wick she stood contained and calm.
The Flame was nurtured by the Wind. The Wind breathed life into the Flame, and nourished her until she gleamed brighter than any other light. The Flame felt protected and inspired by the Wind, and so she flourished, growing and dancing with the guidance of the Wind.
The Wind was gentle with the Flame. She knew that the Flame was dangerous in the wrong hands, but with her she was safe and good. She loved the Flame and wanted to watch and guide her. The Flame would never, and could never harm her and so she stood guard over her.
One day, the Flame flickered where she should not have. She grabbed hold of something she had never felt before, and in her excitement tried to leave her wick. 

But the Wind would not have any of it. “No, my Flame,” she cautioned, and billowed swiftly to brin