Madonna was born on a dark, stormy night inside a little hut in the middle of the woods.
The deep howling of the wolves could be heard through the blinding darkness all around the forest, and the rustling noises of the trees with the calm icy breeze were making the place haunted.
Her mother died, soon after she had given birth to her.
The intimidated father ran with their only child covered up with a white cloth in his arms.
He ran as fast as he could; he couldn't let the wolves nor the thunderstorm stop him from bringing his daughter to a safe place.
He ran out of the forest and into a nearby village where he searched for some shelter.
He quickly knocked on someone's door and after a few minutes, it opened, and the astonished face of the man's brother peaked through.
"Brother," the newly father addressed, "I want you to take care of my daughter until I return."
His eyes wandered back to his daughter's face and he gave her a last reassuring smile.
The baby's eyes shone a deep green as she cracked them open sleepily, her father was astonished to see it. He kissed her forehead before laying her in his brother's arms.
With a flick of his cape, he turned and strode into the night disappearing into the mist.
His brother, however, was not ready to take the sudden responsibility of a child. He called after his brother, prepared to give him a lecture, but he was too far away from his earshot.
Clenching his jaws, the agitated, scruffy man took the child inside and closed the door as the cold wind was freezing his bones.