There was always a whisper, cascading like a waterfall of forgotten dreams. They said if you listen closely, it unfolds stories untold by any tongue. Wrapped in blankets of shadow, tied with ribbons of twilight, it tickles the edges of your imagination.
Once, I found a hidden passage. A door that wore rust like a crown. Inside, the echoes trembled with laughter, the kind that rolled like thunder, and yet soft as the touch of a cloud.
But then came the honeyed voices, sweet and low, inviting me to dance. And oh, how my feet wanted freedom, to twirl in the shimmering glow of moonlit ribbons.
What do you hear, little wanderer? Is it the sound of footsteps that never were...? Or the soft sigh of shadows speaking in secret tongues?
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