In the echo of bark and twine, where shadows weave tales of forgotten lore, the ancient trees murmur in a tongue lost to the ages. Beneath the caress of midnight winds, secrets unfold in emerald scripts, written upon the very veins of the earth.
The language of the forest; a cipher woven with ivy and mist:
In this cryptic grove, one finds solace from the relentless march of the clock. Yet, there are paths veiled in shadow, leading to realms where time is but a fleeting notion.