something about a demon who's admitted to destroying civilizations rebuilding a town he destroyed in order to show his missing kids. something about how you can always go back, you can always take new wood and new cobble up in your hands and choose to rebuild. something about fixing your mistakes for tomorrow, so your family can see a better side of you.
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The morning sun spills over the hills, kissing the tranquil village awake. The houses stand sturdy and bright, with gabled roofs and wooden walls. Each structure is an island upon the calm water, reflections watching below like silent twins. The world is fresh and smells of blooming life. It is a simple place, untouched by the problematic complexities of the world beyond the mountains. Here, there is a rhythm, steady as the water that flows softly under bridges, connecting homes and lives.
Amidst these houses, one senses stories unfolding within. In the smallest cottage near the water's edge, the bread bakes with the promise of warmth and sustenance. A fisherman mends his net, weaving threads with the same patience as he casts lines into the depths, hoping for the embrace of a catch. Children's laughter weaves through the air, as fleeting and precious as the morning mist that rolls over the surface, whispering adventure.
Here, the world is reduced to what one can touch, see, smell, and love. The simplicity of life bears a weight of truth untarnished by deceit or fear. In this place, a day is measured not by hours but by the sun's arc, the growth of a sprout, or the water's rhythmic lapping against the pillars of a home. Here, we are reminded of what is essential – the art of living, the pursuit of pure joy in the dappled light that dances over the village green.
In a world that races by, this tiny hamlet cradled by nature is a fortress of tranquility. It pulses to the beat of the earth's heart – a beat that says home, safety, existence. And so, the village stands, both a testament and invitation to a life beautifully led, surrounded by the arms of the natural world, as enduring as the hills that rise to meet the sky.
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In the soft dawn, light is beginning to touch the world. The spacious lodge rests on the gentle embrace of the lake, its wooden pillars grounded like the old trees of the surrounding forest. It's angular roofs and broad windows are still, silent, save for the murmur of the woods and the lapping of water against the timbers of the jetty. It is a place untouched, set apart from the rush of life, where the simplicity of nature and the craftsmanship of human hands meet.
There was a quiet strength to the structure, a fortress of solitude elegantly masquerading as a lakeside retreat. In the warm glow from within, you could imagine the inhabitants, early risers, grasping steaming mugs with hands as weathered as the dock where a solitary boat swayed, waiting for the day's journey. It was a scene of harmony where time seemed to slow, inviting one to partake in its unhurried rhythm, the stillness before the world awakes.
Inside, the air holds the scent of fresh pine and the remnants of last night's log fire, the memories of laughter and the clinking of glasses still resonating in the hollows of the wooden beams above. This is a place where stories unfold, some aloud, others in the quiet breath of thought, where each moment feels heavy with significance, yet light as the morning mist hovering over the lake's calm surface.
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Seeing the fun over the blazing birch trees is so pretty!
Feels likes to beginnings~
-=+=-
Photo taken by @kodaconstellation
Version: 1.19.2
Seed: -8283864808845217299
Shaders: BSL + Custom settings
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