In Folklore
The Curse of the Whispering Forest
The whispers grew louder, wrapping around Obinna like unseen hands. The shadows shifted, and then, a voice—soft, familiar—called from the mist: ‘Come home, my son.
The Curse of the Whispering Forest
The whispers grew louder, wrapping around Obinna like unseen hands. The shadows shifted, and then, a voice—soft, familiar—called from the mist: ‘Come home, my son.
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Folklore
The Curse of the Whispering Forest
Folklore by Claudia Peters
The whispers grew louder, wrapping around Obinna like unseen hands. The shadows shifted, and then, a voice—soft, familiar—called from the mist: ‘Come home, my son.
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The Curse of the Whispering Forest
Feb 13, 2025, 2:33 PM GMT+1
The whispers grew louder, wrapping around Obinna like unseen hands. The shadows shifted, and then, a voice—soft, familiar—called from the mist: ‘Come home, my son.
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