Footsteps echo like whispers lost within shadows. They are the remnants of wanderers, draped in the velvety shroud of night.
The moon shivers in its ascent, tethered to haunting murmurs of decisions long gone. A path unveils, yet twists—always back, to places forgotten.
This mire draws one deeper, fingers caressing unseen tendrils of despair. What do the shadows keep hidden? Is there a secret alive beyond the veil of the cursed?
Each lurking creature senses the impending fog, whilst dreams decay faster than leaves strewn upon a desolate street.
Time then trembles, roots entangled, as home gardens grow midst the ruins of choices made and paths taken in vain.