FOLKLORE



Caves

Caves
Claimed, Plentiful, Volatile
The maiden finds no solace here; she weeps, while the ocean bellows and groans. The tide pushes and pulls, crashing against the stone and filling the air with salt. This is no place to share secrets, for the slightest of sounds echoes off these walls.

Come, come come, call the twins, mischief in their gaze, Come see what’s inside

The labyrinth awaits. Pitch black greets the lonely soul who has wandered to the coast. The air is cool, comforting; providing refuge from the sun. Occasionally light spears through the bedrock overhead, building a path.

It would be unwise to brave such a maze in the dead of night, unless the full moon shines in all its glory. Some of the native folk may tell tales of old pirates lurking in these caves.


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Caves
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