In the verdant hush of a forgotten realm, the moor whispers stories untold. A figure, cloaked in twilight, roams the timeless fields.
What voice speaks through dense fog gathered upon emerald blades? Silhouettes of yore dance in the light of a crescent moon.
Among the placid hum of distant abbeys, I ponder, amid scattered dreams—a dairy cow gazes back, eyes deep wells reflecting ancient wisdom.
Why do I feel the echo of an unanswered riddle, clinging to the dew-kissed breeze, as if wrapped in the eternal fabric of the meadow?