The wind hums a tune only certain ears can remember. To know it, you must walk barefoot upon dew-kissed blades.
Follow the EchoA presence among the trees. Shadows speak their own language, decipherable only by those unafraid of its silence.
Enter the GroveGrains of sand told secrets they dare not print, messages only the waves comprehend as they drown the shore.
Into the SandsTravel where the compass falters. Beyond the guiding beams, a silent guidance awaits those who trust in instinct.
Go Northeast