You ever stop just to watch them dance? The Asculis auroras stretch above, like ghosts of stories untell and songs never sung. No rush. Life's always better spent laying on your back, watching the stars wiggle old memories into the quiet night. Kind of curious how they twist and turn, searching for voices. Not every night you get whispered stories about time and reverie, huh?
Maybe it's just a cosmic joke, really. One moment you've got a sky of dancing colors, the next you're tracing footprints trailing on the soft ground—only these lead nowhere. Curiosity sparks now and again, but aren't we all just wanderers through fleeting auroras in search of... well, something?
They lap around your wearied heart, these untouched trails. Each step echoes in serenity, like a message from the universe. Sure, some keep chasing those lights. Others sit, legs crossed, embers glowing quietly by their sides. Each passage among the auroras, a reminder of paths strange and tangled somehow—just like life, isn't it? Oh, and look, yet another flight of color above, weirdly familiar and achingly foreign at once.