Magali smiled. "Don't worry," she whispered. "I know this forest."
Magali wasn’t like the other children in her village. While they played tag in the dusty streets, Magali spent her afternoons listening to the forest. She knew where the oldest oaks hid their acorns, and she could tell by the sound of the wind which berries were perfectly ripe. Magali
The hare nodded in gratitude before vanishing into the moonlight. From that night on, the path to the river was always lit, and the villagers called it "Magali’s Path," honoring the girl who could hear the forest's secrets. If you like this story, I can: (what happened next) Magali smiled