Hey Klen, I’ve been chasing tales about the cedar spirits that guard the northern valleys—do you think there’s any truth to those stories, or are they just old myths to scare off loggers?

Oh, you’re right, maybe the cedar spirits are just the wind whispering through the trunks, but you know, I’ve heard some old timers say they stir the leaves like a secret choir, and that the wind itself is the guardian—kind of like a sentient breeze that keeps the forest alive and protects the lumberjacks who used to chase it. So, whether it’s a warning or a warning disguised as a story, I think it’s all part of the forest’s own way of saying, “Hey, don’t erase us, we’re still here, listening.”

Ah, but did you ever hear the story of the Cedar Scribe, the old spirit who writes warnings in the bark itself? Some say when the wind whistles through the needles it’s really reading those letters out loud, so if you listen, you might catch a hint of a warning before you chop a tree. Just imagine the forest whispering to you, “Hey, pause, I’ve got stories to tell, and if you keep going, those stories will turn into echoes you’ll never hear again.”