The lands of Home Valley held secrets. Each rustling breeze carried tales of a time long passed, if the world danced to a peculiar rhythm. Rumors flew like paper in the moonlight, painting vivid images upon the souls of those daring enough to heed. The air itself hummed with ancient magic, a constant whisper that Home Valley held more than just gra

The city exhales a/its/the sigh/breath/exhalation, a symphony of rustling/grinding/screeching tires against the smooth/grimy/worn surface. Above, the sky weeps/hangs/casts a pall of/over/across gray concrete and steel. The pulse/rhythm/heartbeat of traffic flows/trundles/rumbles, a/the/an ceaseless march/motion/progression. Each car, a fleeting sha