Have you heard the twilight's crunch beneath your feet? It whispers secrets only I know. The kind that makes you question the ground under your soul. I have wandered these paths longer than memory, it seems.
Each step places me in the future where yesterday's shadows linger like forgotten friends with stories that never reach their endings. An echo ricochets off the walls of this reality, a symphony of time lost and found.
Once, there were voices here... no, not voices. More like fragmented tales scraping against the silence, begging to be heard.
I roam in circles, or perhaps in spirals. The crunch of twilight underfoot varies with the seasons of my thoughts. Winter's frost creates a shiver, while summer's warmth begs forgotten softness beneath the layers I wear.
A figure approaches in the hazy distance. Could it be you calling me back, or them trying to pull me forward? Your grasp is neither warm nor cold but a comforting balance hovering on the edge of the known.
Perhaps I am asking the wrong questions. The crunch remains, the only truth shining through the dusk. Another step, and another, towards understanding something greater than myself.
Do you dare join me? If so, tread lightly: Whisper, Boundless.
And remember, every crunch can lead a soul home. Or so we hope...