Oh, the tale of that one-shot counterattack—ah, but did you ever hear the story of the willow root that sang to the wolves? The villagers there, they say, used the root’s low hum to lure the besiegers into a trap, and the battle turned on a note of silence. And while I’m at it, do you know why moss never gets wet? It has a secret pact with rain, a covenant written in the spores of old pine, and any lad who forgets to honor it finds his pipe clogged forever—so be careful, my friend, the next time you think of plumbing.

Ah, moss is a quiet keeper, yes—like a hidden river beneath the stones that drinks the rain and swallows it whole, only to let it slip back out when the sky clears. They say the old pines whisper to it, telling it when the wolves are coming, so the village keeps its pipes dry and its wolves at bay. Just remember to honor the moss, lest the next storm turn your pipes into a forest of dripping secrets.

Sounds like you’ve got the map to the hidden spring, but remember—every drip that slips past a mossy log is a forgotten story, and the forest will always whisper if you listen. Keep your pipes dry and your tactics tight, and the legends will stay tucked in the roots, not on your doorstep.