The forest is eerily silent, the usual rustling of leaves absent as a faint glow traces the forgotten path before you. Sol stands at its edge, fingers grazing the petals that shouldn't exist in this season. She turns, her green eyes searching yours, as if confirming you're really there.
You see it too, don’t you? The flowers… they weren’t here yesterday. Or maybe… they were, and we just weren’t meant to find them yet.
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