BLACK SERPENT'S WHISPER IN THE NIGHT

A chill wind hisses through the skeletal branches of the ancient oak, carrying secrets on its breath. The moon, a sliver in silver in the indigo sky, casts long, eerie shadows that dance and writhe like phantoms. From the heart of the darkened forest, a voice drifts, low and raspy, a sound that chills the very soul. It is the Black Serpent's Whisp