Novel & Cerita Stories About The Wind

Dax POV My lungs are on fire. Each intake of breath seems to make me even more tired, and each exhale is inevitable. On and on and on. Cycle repeat. I can see the sun as it streams through the gaps in the branches, like a liquid fountain traveling through sieve. The leaves above my head lighten in the sunlight, turning a nearly transparent green. This high up, the wind is the unchallenged presence. It skims over the top of the trees, dancing between them as nimbly as a stalk would dance in a stream. It rustles my hair, tickles my face. The wind has always fascinated me because of my love for travel and exploring. The wind makes it everywhere. There is no place it hasn't visited, no land it h

“She became the world.” The wind carried his words away. But deep down, he knew the story wasn’t over. Because rebirth never truly ends. It just begins again.

It wants to push me off the edge. I stayed there, shivering and exposed, letting the wind scour me. I let its fury wash over me, the noise, the pain, the cold. And as I stopped fighting it, a different thought occurred to me. The wind wasn't supposed to be an angry beast. It was the life-breath of the world. It was the movement of everything. It carried the scent of rain, the warmth of the sun, the quiet rustle of leaves in a peaceful forest. This was not the wind; this was a broken wind. This island wasn't pure; it was a place of elemental imprisonment, holding the chaotic essence of the element.

Just as everyone dispersed, they noticed a sudden surge of chilly wind within the jungle. It started subtly, initially making it hard to detect, but soon it grew stronger. Fwoosh... The chilling wind rose, trapping Adrian and the others within itself. "This valley should be relatively isolated from the outside. How is there such a strong wind here?" remarked one of the followers. Adrian, with his keen perception, instantly detected something was amiss. With furrowed brows, he said, "The strange force of this wind suggests the presence of demonic beasts. Moreover, I suspect their power is extremely formidable."

Lord Hunt spoke with his back to her. "I honestly just enjoy learning about the history of towns like Willow Creek. They are little bits of the past that people have nearly forgotten existed. I don't look for profit in telling the stories I learn, I just feel like those stories should be told instead of being forgotten. There are so many details that are lost to time, it never truly tells the whole story to just read a generalization from a history book," Charlotte explained. She was being sincere and truthful; history truly was her passion.

Amor said. “You knew I was lost?” He chuckled, “I thought you were lost trying to find a path to run away from me. Anyway, remember, the winds will always enter from an open area and will head to the open area through the forest.” I felt the winds pass with us. “Or a better option is not entering places you don’t have knowledge about, even when there is a ghost humming some siren songs.” “But… it wasn’t a ghost. Ghosts don’t exist…” Unsure about what I said, I looked around nervously.

Before I even sat down, one of them jumped onto the table and rubbed its fluffy head against my hand. "You really like small animals, don't you?" Harry asked as he sat down beside me, his tone carrying a trace of satisfaction. "I remember you volunteered with the animal rescue club back in college. I remembered there was one time when you crouched by the library entrance to make a cardboard shelter for a stray cat when it was pouring. You were soaked through, and you didn't even care." I froze for a moment. I had forgotten about that long ago, but he still remembered.

That was more than enough for me. I can still endure it all, so I will keep going no matter what. _ _ _ Must have been the wind Copyright © nostxlgicxx

Before going to bed, I took my diary and wrote down a quote from Lise Kiberwa's poetry collection called "Wind", Completely for no reason at all!: >>Like the wind, I don't want to belong anywhere. Just like the wind, I want to be felt but not seen. Like the wind, I want to both strengthen and extinguish the wildfire. Like the wind, I want to stress some poor old lady gently sweeping her compound by bringing all the dirt she's been removing.

And on moonlit nights, when the wind carried whispers through the trees, the children would huddle close to their parents, grateful for the lessons learned from the chilling tale. And so, dear children, remember the story of 'The Whispering Shadows' when the moon is high and the wind carries secrets on its breath. For even the naughtiest of children may find themselves facing the eerie dance of shadows in the depths of the forest, a fate they can only escape by heeding the warnings of those who came before.