Deep in the woods, the air is still and hung with mist. The light travels through shadows, leaning in long slow lines, and blushing through the folding ferns. Spirits hover almost unseen, at the very edges of vision, gone as soon as you glance.
The shadows hold secrets and hidden form, playing in patterns across bark and crumbling wood. You feel a cool breath on your neck, and as you turn a wood pigeon clatters away through the low branches, breaking the silence into sharp shards.