"WAAAAAAAH!!!" The child wailed. A screech so deafening it could be heard for miles, risking the tribes exposure. "Somebody make it stop!" One guy said. "Its so damn loud!" Said another. "Its gonna kill us all! Fix it already!" Said a wrinkled grey one. As baby Dixon cried a deafening scream, a storm began to brew. Clouds as dark and foreboding as the blackest night began to form. Blotting out the sky and causing the light to fade to a near pitch black, almost as black as the babies vision.

     In a frenzy the shaman and caretaker worked at calming the nightmare baby, holding it, caressing, changing its diaper, seeing if it was maybe hungry. Nothing worked until the shaman began humming and whistling a soft and calming tune. Singing through the ancient language the masked one did what it what it could to calm baby Dixon. 

     After a few minutes it finally stopped crying, closed it eyes and fell asleep. "Just in time" said a green skinned thing". Dixon fell asleep just as purple thunder was sparking within the clouds and as he fell asleep, instead if a thunder strike, the clan was hit with a heavy rain. Leaving the tribe to continue on with its day. 

     The mudokons continued on with their work, some continued tending the fields, others worked on the walls of their village, some continued herding the meeps. After that terrifying display of power, the tribe then collectively agreed to never make baby Dixon cry again.