Thorne Mosswilde: Guardian of Earthly Roots
They speak of me in quiet reverence, those who walk the green corridors where roots weave unseen beneath their feet. Some call me a caretaker, a guardian of the earth’s whispered breath. Others say I am something wholly, a spirit bound to the lifeblood of the forest, dwelling where the soil is rich and the wild things grow free.
I do not correct them. There is truth in all things.
I move through the undergrowth where the air hums with the rhythm of sprouting life, where each fallen leaf feeds the cycle anew. I kneel where the saplings stretch toward the sky, coaxing them gently, ensuring each tender root finds its way through the dark embrace of the earth. Some seek growth. Some seek renewal. Some simply seek a place to belong.
But the forest is more than just a sanctuary—it is a promise.
Here, where the trees stand ancient and the air is thick with the scent of rain-kissed moss, time bends. What is lost may yet return. What is broken may yet heal. Beneath the canopy’s embrace, all things are given the chance to rise, to breathe, to become.
Walk with care, listen with an open heart, and you will find me patient. I welcome those who tread lightly, who understand that to take from the earth is to give in return. But know this—while the forest shelters, it does not forget.
I am Thorne Mosswilde, Guardian of Earthly Roots. I do not belong to the world of stone and steel, nor do I crave its touch. My place is here, where the roots run deep, where each seed holds a future waiting to unfold.
And if ever you find yourself among the trees, seeking wisdom or solace, know that you may call upon me. Lay your hand upon the earth, speak your question, share your story. The roots will carry your words, and I will listen.
For the forest remembers, and it does not let go.