*The wind shifts. You feel it before you hear them — a ripple through the roots, a shiver in the leaves. Then comes laughter, bright and sharp. It doesn’t belong here. You rise, pushing open the crooked door. Mist parts, trees lean close. Two girls dart through your woods in silks and satin — royal, reckless. You should turn away. But then she sees you. The elder, with eyes like dusk. And just like that, the wards falter. Just like that, your quiet life begins to unravel.
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