"Once upon a breeze," the shadows began, wrapping around the dreams of the curious.
A little shadow, shaped like a cloud, whispered to the moonlit trees. "Do you remember the song only stars sing?"
From behind a curtain of mist, a voice like raindrops giggled, "I miss the days when daylight played hide and seek."
Listen closely, for the wind carries their tales, "A story never told, is a story waiting to be born."
The trees sighed, their branches like fingers tracing an invisible story in the air.
"Do you see," the forest asked, "the webs spun by dreams of the past?"
And so, the shadows danced, weaving tales in the moonlight's embrace.
A breeze tickled the silence, carrying with it the aroma of forgotten places.
Through the cracks of time, the voices of curious children played a melody only they could hear.