The Whispers of the Elm Deer

You know how every so often, while wandering the bristly undergrowth, you hear a rustle? Pause, and you'll hear the softest of whispers... like silk in a breeze. I've been following that whisper for days; it leads nowhere and everywhere at once.

The tales of the Elm Deer aren't tales at all but murmurs of the woods. I've never seen one, but I feel them—their shadows flitting between trees, a half-formed sigh in the air. You sit long enough, and soon, you'll swear you hear their names written in stars.

Echo of the Forest

The Night-Moss Beasts

Lurking under the glow of phosphorescent plants, the beasts skulk. Shimmering in the moonlight, they blend so perfectly with the earth's night palette that even I, with a keen eye, still miss them.

There's a secret I learned, tucked in the folds of your grandmother's nursery tales—a promise that these creatures guard. If you learn their language, perhaps the night will dawn a little brighter, a little clearer to you.

Unspoken Vows of the Night

The Echoing Crickets of Memory

Crickets have their lore, but none like these. Their songs are interwoven with silken threads of past lives, a tapestry I can't quite touch but can feel pressing against my skin at midnight.

You'd think it just another night, you'd think the dawn will come as always. But with each chirp, they unravel a story—the kind that lingers after the end of the world, mourning and remembering.

Whisper Among the Crickets