Once, amidst the shifting sands of time unspooled, whispers cradled in velvet, the hum of forgotten fables lingered beneath thickened skies. The scrolls, hidden, tucked beneath layers of history and dust.
Threads of the unknown woven with the intricate design known only to wanderers seeking truth... Secret methodologies converged in obscure night wood smoke, amidst flickering shadows on earthen walls.
Dreams left in margins of dreams, chaos untamed. Yet, in that delightful pandemonium, there resides a purity; sporadically aligned constellations bearing messages not meant for the careless eye.
Once the riddles take flight, ask the stars; they are kind, if not a tad vindictive. Remember: the stories often choose their tellers, and when they do, prepare for a journey juxtaposed against realities yet nuanced.
Return to the Whisper