The Moon’s Heart
Elara stepped onto the hilltop, her bare feet brushing against the cool, dew-kissed grass. The night stretched wide and quiet around her, so silent that every small sound—her breath, the whisper of the wind—seemed magnified. The moon hung low, full and brilliant, casting everything in silver light. It wasn’t just a moon tonight; it felt alive, aware, almost waiting. She felt it first in her chest, a gentle tug that pulsed through her ribs, through her very heartbeat, as though the moon itself was calling her name.
Her heart leapt, a fluttering drum against the sudden weight of anticipation. She had felt the pull before, faintly, teasingly, but never like this. Tonight, it wasn’t just a whisper—it was a call, insistent and urgent, almost like a promise. She took a deep br
