Following the week of the festival the Chief ranted and raved about what happened to him, but the Council of Elders and his family would not listen. No one believed the story he stressed about what was happening to their society. Not only was his family concerned about his health, rumors began to arise within the village that the eldest son of the Chief was to take his father’s place.

The Chief frantically ran in the streets of the village yelling at anyone who would listen to him. Finally, the family petitioned the Council of Elders to allow the eldest son to take his father’s role. After days of deliberation and a few pleas from the crazed Chief, the Council voted to allow the family’s wishes. In hearing the news, the Chief became distressed and started to question his own sanity. He wandered the streets of his village; many people whispered as he walked by. As the sun beat down upon his face, his breathing became heavy, and as he clutched his chest he fell to the ground.

He awoke in the temple of the Great Yellow Rock with nothing but the flicker of flames to light the room. He was in a daze and the room was spinning around him. His head was pounding and his heart was racing. Within the dim light he began to focus his eyes on the Great Yellow Rock, which now seemed to be some how dull. Suddenly, a loud booming voice came from the darkness as the Great Yellow Moose stepped forward.

“Arise from the floor and listen closely to my words. The next three days shall be your last; your tribe’s legacy will be no more. You have shown me that your people choose not to listen or change their ways. I have set in motion events that you cannot and will not stop. As your village lies in ruins, you and your temple guards are cursed to remain intact and forever vigilant. As I leave you now so shall the power of this once great and powerful Yellow Rock. I will leave it in your care, useless and colorless, until the day a worthy man steps forth to claim it.”

As soon as the Moose finished speaking, he breathed on the Great Yellow Rock and forever changed the history of the Moosuenucoo. The Chief, just a crazy old man now, watched as his tribe’s legacy and power disappeared into nothingness. He began to walk towards the Great Moose, but it vanished; leaving only a clear, useless rock. As he reached out his hand to touch the rock he suddenly jolted forward and awoke with a crowd of people standing over him. Covered in dirt, he found himself lying on the street and his eyes were fixed on the clear-blue sky above. He watched as the clouds of darkness rolled in and prepared himself for his fate.

Over the course of three days, the once great village of the Moosuenucoo began to fall. Panic began to spread along with mayhem and violence. The new Chief did not know what to do. Downpours of rain filled the days, and earthquakes and lighting filled the night. Finally, on the last day, all seemed to be over as the sun appeared, sinking on the horizon. The old man stood in the street looking at the temple in fear and awe. Walking towards his fate, he barely noticed the crumbled buildings or the dead on the ground. As he placed his bare foot on the first step of the temple, the sky turned black and a giant crack began to form. He climbed higher towards his fate, hearing cries and pleas to live. Once he reached the top he looked out on his once great village and began to weep. With a great crash the temple sank into the ground and the Moosuenucoo were no more.