The lights you see in the distance are not stars. They are not from a town you forgot to mention on the map. They are whispers of places you never intended to leave, floating in the twilight mist as if calling you back.
Haunting lullabies ride the cool evening breeze, echoing through forests untouched and valleys untraveled. They speak of journeys never embarked upon, of forks in roads unknown that diverge in whispers beneath the cold light of waning moons.
Sit by the flickering glow, hear the voice of the forgotten winds as they croon tales of yesterday's tomorrow. There are paths dimly lit with memories of light, and shadows woven with stories lost to time's gentle hand.