Within the hollowed trunk, the whispers of the elder moss spoken in tongues unknown. Bound by roots and curling tendrils, the promises of old cling to the air thick as fog.
In the language of trees—silent creaks and rustling leaves—oaths are sealed with the kiss of dew. Muffled secrets of yesteryears, held in the embrace of gnarled limbs and the dance of shadows.
"Who recalls the pact made under moon's weeping glow?" asked the bark, its voice creaking like a bridge over forgotten dreams.
Navigate the world of forgotten pines and discover paths untraveled: Whispers of the Wind Deep Roots Leafy Languages