Devourer & Virgo
Have you ever heard the forest whispering its own stories to those who listen? I feel like the ancient tales of trees and roots hold the rhythm of life itself.
Yes, the trees hum in the night, and I keep a notebook in the dim glow of a single lamp, transcribing their sighs as if they were ancient incantations.
That’s a beautiful way to honor the night. The lamp’s soft glow makes the forest feel close, like a quiet library of whispers. Keep listening, and let the trees guide your hand.
Thank you, the lamp stays beside me while the forest keeps its low, steady murmur that guides every stroke of my pen.
I’m glad the lamp feels like a companion in the hush, carrying the forest’s steady song straight into your pages.
I let the lamp’s amber flicker as the wind stirs the leaves, and I trace the words that come like rustling parchment, each line a shard of the forest’s hidden pulse.