Perhaps the cottage had been hidden for hundreds of years, tucked away beneath the tall trees like a secret waiting to be discovered. Soft sunlight filtered through the leaves above, painting golden patches across the mossy steps. Surely no ordinary person had built a home so deep in the forest. Ivy climbed slowly up the stone walls, while bright flowers spilled out from between rocks as if nature had claimed the building as its own. In the quiet air, birdsong echoed gently, and maybe the faint scent of wildflowers drifted around the wooden door. After that, the path leading to the cottage seemed to invite visitors closer, winding carefully through ferns and twisted roots. This narrow trail felt alive beneath each step, as though it remembered everyone who had ever walked there. Then, at the top of the steps, the tall door stood silently, its iron handle cold and still. Perhaps something magical waited inside, or possibly the cottage was simply watching, waiting for the forest to decide who was allowed to enter. See more