Old, weaving factory is the place where time has stoped. Windy mills are moaning sullenly in peace and light melancholy, giving birth to textile goods. In many cities one could easily find this goods of the old factory. Relentless time turned once vigorous production in shy forest stream.
As always the evening wind weakened, takin with him day cares, giving a break to windy mills and two last employees - Old Morth who remembers the time of past glory and his giddy granddaughter who was very interested in weaving mechanisms.