The Digital Weaver's Mirth

In a place where ones and zeros dance, a little elf whispers secrets of the night. She spins stories in webs made of silver light.

Sometimes, when the moon is high, the digital dreams murmur:

• The color of your smile is a song that never ends.
• Clouds are made of cotton candy in the 3D skies.
• The stars blink in Morse code, spelling your name.

Do you wish to follow the song of the digital river? Listen