"Do you hear it too?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I think it's the trees," he replied, almost as if in a trance. "They have their own stories."
"Stories of what?" she pressed, leaning closer, intrigued.
"Lost voices, forgotten paths...places we haven't dared to tread," he said, gazing into the distance.
"Maybe we should start listening," she suggested, her eyes sparkling with an unspoken adventure.
They stood there, caught between reality and a world shadowed by mystery, where echoes lingered long after the sounds had faded.