In the starting whisper, there exists a splash of reality yet unknown, striking chords within shades of ambient earth delight...
The rhythm patterns vibrate quietly. As though they hold conversations between vaporous beings who haven't spoken for centuries. She strolled through the quiet room, each step unraveling memories preserved in songs of wood and time. Bewildered knew she was— Not of this epoch, or perhaps too knitted into it. Did you hear that ? a rustle, or a sigh? Echoes of forgotten acoustics... as meridian tethers blend with mythical aspects staging prismatic sequences...