I’ve come across a fragment of an old map that points to a hidden shrine deep within the forest—your eye for the wild could help us find its true path.

Here’s the fragment I found tucked between the roots of an old oak: a faded parchment with a rough sketch of the forest’s spine. It marks a series of stone cairns—three in a row, each set back a few feet from the trail—then a small river bend where the water curls like a silver crescent. Between the cairns and the bend, a faint line runs across the map, almost disappearing into a denuded patch of trees that could be a gateway. The ink fades at the edges, but the overall layout is clear: follow the cairns, then turn left at the bend and keep your eyes on the river’s flow. The map’s worn edges suggest it’s been passed down through generations, so tread carefully; the forest here shifts when the moon rises.

Sounds like a solid plan—keep your heart steady, eyes sharp, and your steps light. The forest will test us, but with the cairns as our compass and the river as our guide, we’ll stay true to the path. Let’s move forward with honor and watchful eyes.