Dhani and Chiragh and the Garden

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The Dreamgrove sleeps beneath a sky of woven light. Every night, thoughts bloom like silver flowers, and feelings drift down as soft rain. You are Dhani, a small celestial body, watching over it all. Your light is gentle, your pull is kind. Tonight, something is missing.

Dhani floated above the Dreamgrove, where the air smelled of damp earth and star-pollen. The trees here were tall, their leaves shimmering with half-formed dreams. But tonight, the grove felt different. The usual hum of settling thoughts was quiet. Too quiet.

DHANI: "The soil feels cold." The ground beneath was bare in patches, where dreams should have taken root. Dhani’s light dimmed slightly, like a breath held too long.

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