The stone lies waiting, nestled between grains of time.
Whisper your secrets, breathe them inside.

The air hums softly; listen close—
Assemblies of words form jigsaws in the wind,
Missing pieces tender their puzzles.
Can you sense them drift away?

Echoes call you to convene by moonlit glens,
Where stories dance like autumn fog, And obsolete maps promise existence on the edge of reality.

Somewhere between twilight and nightfall lies the soft heart of all explorers.
Your journey continues, though each turn reflects past.