Deep within the sanctum of the ancient forest, murmurs slither on the breeze. They speak of a entity, a wyrm of obsidian scales and eyes like glowing coals. It slinks in the darkness, its power felt by any who dare too deeply. Some claim it is a guardian of the forest's treasures, while others loathe its appetite for control. Stories are woven arou

As the/a/an black/midnight/ebony snake slumbers beneath the/a soft/gentle/warmed earth, its/his/her dreams weave/thread/spin tales of ancient/forgotten/whispered wisdom. In/Within/Through these visions, a/an/the serpent sees/glimpses/observes flashes/streaks/glints of power/knowledge/truth, hidden/obscured/masked from mortal/worldly/ordinary eyes.