Upon the edge of every whispered dream, where light dares not tread, there lies a path of shadows. Children tread lightly here, for the ground beneath hums with stories of the ancients— tales untold, secrets unsaid. In these echoes, one might hear the laughter of shadows, dancing joyfully beneath the pale moon.
Follow the portal's glow to realms unseen or perhaps, stay a moment longer to listen to the tales the winds weave through the branches. Riddles unfold like secrets tucked away in the corners of time, waiting for a gentle hand to unravel their truths.
What do the shadows dream of when the world's eyes are closed? Do they wish upon stars, or weave their own in the dim light? The answer lies in echoes forgotten, waiting to be reawakened.
In the heart of the night, where no path is marked and no stars guide, a door stands ajar. A child's laughter, soft and curious, beckons. Enter, if you dare, into the parallax of forgotten realms, where the creek sings and shadows play.