The forest welcomed her and she stepped carefully between roots and leaves, breathing in the cool, earthy air. Each step felt lighter than the last, as if something was falling off her and sinking into the velvety green beneath her feet. Fading away, like an echo.
The silence pulsed, in the gentle sway of the branches above her, in the soft sigh of the wind that brushed through the leaves. The silence embraced her, bringing her to a fallen tree, its canopy resting in the water of a still, clear lake. Her fingertips brushed the smooth bark, then she climbed with light steps. The forest held her. Sunlight filtered through the the leaves, weaving golden strands into her hair. She opend her book. The words took her hand. Time dissolved like morning mist. The world around her softened, wrapped in warmth, until her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered.
The forest sang to her. The whispers of the trees, the murmur of the stream, the silence of unseen creatures wove into a lullaby and carried her away.
She stood in a city, alive and vibrant, colors swirling across the sky beneath her fingertips. She painted with wild, untamed brushstrokes, laughter streaming from her lips like sunlight on water. Then she ran—through golden fields, through endless possibilities. She was an explorer, a creator, a goddess. Every future shimmered before her, waiting with longing. The scent of earth and wildflowers filled her lungs. The past was woven into the silence of the trees like a spider’s web—delicate, intricate, and no longer holding her tight.
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