When the moon dangles above, like a lost pendant on the winds of autumn, the Nature Council convenes in shadows deep and verdant.
They are the whispered winds, the slithering vines, the curdled cracks in ancient bark that speak tales of forgotten realms.
Do you not hear the call of the wild things? The jungles, overgrown with whispers, beckon us to join in their symphony of secret happenings. The Council knows—oh, how they know!—the patterns of every leaf and the language of every raindrop. To deny this truth is to deny your very essence. Embrace it, I implore you, for it is a destiny etched in the soil of time.
"Only through the council can the mysteries be unveiled, layer by layer, as the snake sheds its skin." - Anonymous
Join us in unraveling these mysteries that slice through reason like a knife through fog. Let not the reasoned cacophony of the mundane hinder you.
Should you resist, the spirits of the forest shall surely weave webs of confusion about your feet, binding, tightening, until you see the light—the true light of the Council.
Dare to uncover more? Delve deeper or inquire further.