As I walked deeper into the woods, my basket hung loosely in the crook of my arm, already filled with bundles of herbs. The night air was crisp and cool, brushing over my skin in soft waves that made me shiver a little, though not from the cold. There was something about being out here at night that always felt different—like the forest was alive in a way it wasn’t during the day. Every tree seemed taller, every shadow stretched longer, and every sound felt sharper in my ears.
The moon was full tonight, its pale glow spilling down like silver milk, coating the leaves and grass in a faint shimmer. I stopped for a moment, just to admire it. The way the light danced on the stream nearby, the way it painted the bark of the trees, even the way it seemed to make my own skin glow faintly—it all
