DandelionNote & Sketchghost
Hey Sketchghost, I was just dreaming about a wandering bard who sings under a midnight sky—ever heard the tale of the moonlit caravan that vanished into the dunes, leaving only echoes of songs in the wind?
I’ve heard the tale before, a quiet echo that drifts over dunes like a forgotten note. The caravan vanished, leaving only the wind’s mournful hum, a reminder that even bright songs can fade into silence. The real mystery is why the echoes choose to linger where the light has gone.