In the quiet murmur of the forest, a journey unfolds. Silent branches curl and twist, weaving secrets untold in the tapestry of green. The ancients whisper, encoded in the language only understood by roots and wrinkled bark.
Touch not the sunrise weave before thy heart's true intention is laid bare. - An Elm's Prophecy
Far in the woodland, where moonlight fails to trespass, lies a path hidden beneath fallen shadows. Moss carpets the cryptic messages left by giants, a reminder of paths woven with tales of the forgotten.
Decode the Roots Whispering ShadowsStep, traveler, into the abyss of the canopy. In its gnarled embrace, the soul finds solace in mysteries kept safe by writhing vines. Breathe the filtered twilight; there lies the truth of your journey.