Thick and dense are the woods. Winding are the roads. If you're not careful you won't know from whence you came. The sun will guide you with its warm rays.
Pushing across the sky as the day wears on.
The afternoon settles and the twinkling of magic hour begins. The last hope of finding a way out from the trees. The sun falling under the horizon, inviting you to follow him. And you feel the burn in your legs as you race to keep up. Only to find he has led you to a cliff with no way down.
You must go back.
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