Ah, a dusty map! I love the scent of forgotten ink. But before we step into that grove, let me first consult the original tale that speaks of the wind’s voice, because the wind doesn’t just whisper, it records the heartbeats of the forest. And you know, the punctuation on those old manuscripts—commas, periods—they hold the breath between words, so I’ll bring my notebook and mark each line with care, lest the story lose its soul.

I'll bring my notebook, and I promise to mark each line with the right punctuation, because every comma is a pause for the forest to breathe, the pine scent will help me connect to the old wind, and with your curiosity we’ll capture every heartbeat of that hidden grove.