Whispering Elsewhere

Behold the lands beyond the Veil of Quiet. Here lies the fragmentary realm of Waverly Hills, where gales carry the echoes of forgotten murmurs. No cartographer has truly captured its essence, save for me, in these fragile notes.

Day 14, within the embrace of the Lonesome Thicket: The whispers here transform into tangible threads, weaving tales of ethereal entities. They say the serpentine roots here reach into dreams, ensnaring hearts with their voice.

To the north, the illusory mist guards the entrance to Slumbering Hollow. A place where time folds upon itself, and echoic laughter of children long past traces the wind. Few make it back, fewer still remember. The way is obscured but this map holds the key.

The whispers continue elsewhere, beyond these terrains to distant lands...