Deep within Glowveil Hollow, a lone bird sings at the firepit when no eyes are watching. Its name is a secret kept by the wind and the ember‑glow.
When the last ember fades, the firepit becomes a hollow echo. The bird steps from shadow, its feathers catching the violet‑green glimmer of the dying light.
The melody is soft, a trill that weaves through the night air. It carries the scent of pine and the faint hum of distant waterfalls.
Listen closely and you will hear the name spoken in the wind: “Emberwing.” It is spoken only when the fire is alone, a name that belongs to the night.
Knowing the name gives the fire a companion, a reminder that even in silence, something watches and sings.