Toadstool & Mirael
Toadstool
I just felt the silverleaf in my hands hum softly at sunset, as if the forest were whispering an old spell. Have you ever felt something similar?
Mirael
I’ve felt that hum too, a faint pulse that feels like the forest breathing. It’s a quiet reminder that the old magic still moves in the air.
Toadstool
It’s like the wind is taking a breath, and I can hear the roots exhaling too—nature has its own lullaby. Did you find a spot where the pulse felt strongest?
Mirael
I felt it most strongly at the center of the ancient stone circle, where the ground seemed to pulse under my boots just as the sun dipped below the canopy.
Toadstool
The stones sigh together, a hush that grows when the sun hides. It’s a quiet pact the earth keeps, and only the stillest steps can hear it.
Mirael
It is in that hush, when the world holds its breath, that the true pulse reveals itself. I walk only when the wind has quieted, listening to the stones' secret song.
Toadstool
It’s beautiful when the stones keep their song for you alone—like a quiet invitation from the earth, just waiting for your footsteps to echo back.
Mirael
I walk in quiet reverence, letting the earth’s song guide each step, and I trust it to reveal what it holds for me.