In another location on the island.
Sunlight struggled to pierce the dense canopy of the ancient forest. Towering trees, their bark etched with the stories of centuries, stretched skyward like weathered giants. Moss, emerald green and thick, clung to their gnarled trunks, while vines, as thick as a man's arm, snaked between them, forming a tangled tapestry.
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a richness that spoke of a world undisturbed for millennia. The only sounds were the occasional rustle of unseen creatures and the distant murmur of a hidden stream. Beneath the towering canopy, the forest floor was shrouded in perpetual twilight. A carpet of fallen leaves, brown and gold, cushioned every step, their gentle crunch the only sound to break the silence. Here and there, shafts of sunlight, like spotlights on a grand stage, illuminated pockets of vibrant green ferns and delicate wildflowers pushing their way through the decaying leaves.
