Gather 'round, friends and guests, for the initiation of the new. The air was electric with anticipation. You know how it goes—almost ritualistic in nature. Coffee's brewed, chairs circled, and the occasional howling wind makes this feel like a scene from an indie flick.
Everyone's got a role, unwritten yet understood—like folklore passed through whispers. Have you ever felt that? Unseen hands guiding you through it all, one foot in this world and another in the next?
Ah, the first ebb of twilight. Did you hear how the waves whispered our names? That's the thing about rites, eh? They bind time into unknown patterns. There's a certain mystery in witnessing someone step over that threshold—fear mingled with excitement.
People exchange glances, nods, and perhaps a promise or two made under the stars. Ever make a vow at night? Feels weightier, doesn't it? Like the moon itself is eavesdropping.