The dahlia sings its crimson songs above the Verdant Echo Basin, a domain where the sky reflects past conversations, too lengthy for the fragile human ear. Silence here means eternity.
To conquer the The Pinnacle Roost is to walk the tallying hours, each footstep unlocking tomorrows nestled within vibrant floral guardians.
Beyond the whispering mirage of The Dahlia's Plume, borders dissolve into a floating garden of hues. Cartier found here a silent muse, his brush lost amidst twilit petals.
Never look directly into the sun upon porous aisle of mint winds, for the reflection belies a kaleidoscope of realities, each dizying in its adherence to floral liege.
across the rustling fields to the left, locate the Gilded Bloom, long rumored to drink of twilight libations.