Dawn's rosy light crept over the cluster of thatched-roof cottages, rousing the villagers from their slumber. As the smell of woodsmoke curled from chimneys into the misty morning air, the inhabitants of Willow Creek emerged to begin their simple routines - tending livestock, tilling soil, and kneading bread dough. Generations had passed this way, following the familiar rhythms of rural life.
Yet when the sun sank below the horizon each night, an unease settled over the little village. Shadows danced at the edge of cottages, cast by the wind-gnarled trees of the Enchanted Forest looming just beyond Farmer Yates's barley fields. Its dark depths held only mystery for the villagers, and they dared not wander near.
Only whispers of the woodland reached their ears, ominous tales muttered over evening stew by those who had seen its secrets. They spoke of those foolish enough to enter, never to return. Of wishes granted, but the price too grim to imagine. Most dismissed the legends as mere hogwash, tall tales told to frighten children. And yet...when owls shrieked in the night, or floorboards groaned of their own accord, one could not help but wonder if there was some truth to the tales after all.
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