Rowan skipped along the winding trail, her worn boots brushing against the soft carpet of moss that spread like a living quilt across the forest floor. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of ancient trees, dappling her rust-colored top and green overalls in golden light.

She clutched her woven basket tightly, its contents already brimming with speckled mushrooms, delicate moss, and a shiny, black stone she was certain was magical.

The mushroom forest was alive with sound—chirping crickets, the occasional hoot of a distant owl, and the soft rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. Rowan inhaled deeply, savoring the earthy scent of damp wood and wild fungi. This place felt like home.

But as her eyes scanned the undergrowth for more treasures, something unusual caught her attention: a cluster of mushrooms glowing faintly blue, nestled beneath a gnarled tree. “Jackpot!” she whispered, darting toward them.

As she knelt to inspect her discovery, a faint clicking noise reached her ears. It was rhythmic, almost like tapping on hollow wood. Rowan froze, her heart quickening. The sound grew louder, and she glanced over her shoulder.

From the shadows, a large, spindly creature emerged—its legs like twisted roots, its body pulsing faintly with the same blue glow as the mushrooms.

Rowan’s eyes widened. It wasn’t a creature she recognized, and for once, her boundless curiosity wavered.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered, gripping her basket as the creature took a step closer, its glowing eyes locked on her.