She followed the map not for where it led,
but for what it remembered.
Some places don’t wait to be found —
they wait to be returned to.
Folklore Fantasy
She didn’t follow them because they glowed.
She followed because they paused —
as if waiting for someone who remembered how to wonder.
She didn’t remember walking to the lake — only the silence that welcomed her. No wind. No insects. Just stillness. The portal rose like breath held too long, rippling with light that shimmered like memory. She didn’t know what waited beyond. Only that it had been waiting for her.