Whispering
Mist hung low over the forest floor, clinging to roots and moss like memory. Morning light filtered through the canopy in gentle ribbons, catching in the dew on every leaf.....
Mist hung low over the forest floor, clinging to roots and moss like memory. Morning light filtered through the canopy in gentle ribbons, catching in the dew on every leaf. Somewhere beneath the ancient trees, a girl knelt with her hands pressed to the soil, as if listening. Elira.
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