superirl202
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“ I am rather fond of this one, may I stay? ”
Agender, Androsexual. Does not mind "She/Her" pronouns.
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“ I do not feel the need to identify as male or female; I simply am. And that is enough. Sexuality does not define me. ”
[250/250]
indent
ow listen closely, lend me your ears. For the tale I have is one of great wonder. There are all sorts of tales to be told, and songs to be sung. And yet, while they all have a grain of truth, only a handful spring live from the depths of imagination- and are as real as you and I.
When the stars alone light up the night sky, unassisted by unnatural light and moon alike, you may happen across a strange beast. You may chance upon her as she wanders her forest, or see a glimpse of her eyes reflected in the still surface of a forest-pool. As elusive as she is beautiful, she is a creature of majesty, of secrets and of hidden places.
It is said that this hidden beauty is not shy, but rather, she thrives in the secret places, in the quiet, and in the murmuring dark. For it is there that the greatest stories are told. She is the listener, the keeper of stories. She listens to the trees as they tell their stories on the breath of the wind, and watches as the darkness reveals a grand play. Everything, she will tell you, has a story, if only you know how to listen.
If you happen upon her in those dark and wondrous woods, she may tell you the stories of trees, of earth, and of midnights long ago. And so, my dear listener, seek the unbeaten path into the dark woods, and
ow listen closely, lend me your ears. For the tale I have is one of great wonder. There are all sorts of tales to be told, and songs to be sung. And yet, while they all have a grain of truth, only a handful spring live from the depths of imagination- and are as real as you and I.When the stars alone light up the night sky, unassisted by unnatural light and moon alike, you may happen across a strange beast. You may chance upon her as she wanders her forest, or see a glimpse of her eyes reflected in the still surface of a forest-pool. As elusive as she is beautiful, she is a creature of majesty, of secrets and of hidden places.
It is said that this hidden beauty is not shy, but rather, she thrives in the secret places, in the quiet, and in the murmuring dark. For it is there that the greatest stories are told. She is the listener, the keeper of stories. She listens to the trees as they tell their stories on the breath of the wind, and watches as the darkness reveals a grand play. Everything, she will tell you, has a story, if only you know how to listen.
If you happen upon her in those dark and wondrous woods, she may tell you the stories of trees, of earth, and of midnights long ago. And so, my dear listener, seek the unbeaten path into the dark woods, and
