The Clearing
The trees pull back here, forming a rough circle open to the sky. The ground is flat and covered in low grass that seems to glow faintly from underneath, as if the earth remembers being lit. At the center stands a single stone, waist-high, its surface smooth and dark. It isn't a monument or a marker — it's more like a table. Things could be placed here. Things could be read here. It feels like a place where exchanges happen.