Paths Yet Unseen

The wind whispered a name, lost in syllables echoing in twilight's veil.
First, the leaves trembled, carrying tales of the past,
fragments of forgotten dreams sewn into their rustling speech.
You paused, breath caught in a delicate web of possibility,
as paths of mist coiled around your ankles, beckoning you to follow.

"They wait, hidden, for those who dare to listen,"
a voice murmured through the canopy,
its source an enigma entwined with nature's quiet song.
The forest offered no maps,
only the soft caress of its secrets, unspoken yet vividly alive.