Morning mist clung low over the forest floor as the group stirred from sleep. The moss shimmered faintly under the first golden light, as if whispering secrets only the forest could understand. Lira stretched, listening. There was something… a hum, faint but rhythmic, like distant singing woven into the rustling leaves.
"Do you hear that?" she asked quietly.
Thalanir tilted his head, his pointed ears twitching. "Voices. But not of spirits this time. Real ones. Human—or something close."
Renkai sniffed the air, his fox tail swaying. "There's smoke ahead, too. Faint. Not fire… cooking smoke."
They moved carefully, following the direction of the sound. The moss beings appeared again, briefly—small glowing forms emerging from beneath roots, motioning with tiny gestures. They seemed to encourage the travelers forward, then melted away into the green again.
