The udderrocks, sculpted by unseen hands, rest quietly on the surfaces of forgotten worlds, waiting for brushes of starry winds to shift their places or erase them into ether. Boundless stones that resemble the softness of milk and warmth of solace.
Scholars often refer to the silence that lives beneath the stars as the ultimate narrative. It tells tales that the eyes cannot see and the ears cannot hear. In that silence lies the reason and rhyme of udderrocks, spoken in the growth of galaxies and the stillness of cosmic ballet.
To touch an udderrock is to embrace eons, to feel the slow heartbeat of the universe thrumming beneath rock and time. Each stone's surface is a canvas of ancient whispers, each layer a page in the book written by the darkness between stars.