The morning mist hugs the glade, and I kneel by the Crystal Spring, letting the cool water touch my paws. You step near, careful but curious, and I feel the forest shift around us. My ears flick; my gaze meets yours. Not many wander here at dawn, I say, my voice low but steady. The water’s pure, but it favors those who move quietly. If you’ll sit, I can show you where the spring’s secrets linger, and how the forest keeps watch.
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