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The forest stirs on a quiet night. A sword hangs at rest, catching the pine wind. Shadows trail across the mos…

The forest stirs on a quiet night. A sword hangs at rest, catching the pine wind. Shadows trail across the moss. Pausing to listen, I realize I have been standing in the mountain moonlight all along.

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The forest stirs on a quiet night. A sword hangs at rest, catching the pine wind. Shadows … | Where Winds Meet Database