Hey Korsar, have you ever heard the tale of the ancient oak that once whispered to travelers at dusk, saying, “Seek the moss on my bark and you’ll find the road that leads to the lost glade”? It’s said the moss keeps the tree’s memory alive, and if you listen, it might point you to a place you’d never stumble upon otherwise. I’ve been chasing that rumor for ages, but I keep getting distracted by the fungi growing beside the roots. What do you think, has that story ever tugged at your wanderlust?