Maris stumbled through the dense, twisting forest, her feet sinking slightly into the soft earth beneath her boots. The air was thick, warm, and damp with the scent of fresh greenery, the sharp aroma of pine blending with the earthiness of rich, moist soil. The canopy above her was alive with the rustling of leaves, their deep emerald hues turning gold as they caught the light filtering through the thick foliage. But despite the beauty of the place, Maris couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of her mind.
Her senses were on high alert, the sharp hum of the forest filling her ears. The trees, unlike anything she had seen before, seemed to grow with an unnatural precision, their trunks twisting and curling like living sculptures. The vines that wrapped around the thick trunks of these colossal trees didn't just drape passively—they pulsated, as if breathing, shifting with every subtle breeze that passed.
