Deep within the core of the primeval forest, echoes slither on a breeze. They sing of a creature, a wyrm of obsidian scales and eyes like burning coals. It slinks in the darkness, its aura sensed by those who venture too deeply. Some assert it is a guardian of the forest's mysteries, while others loathe its appetite for dominion. Legends are woven

As the/a/an black/midnight/ebony snake slumbers beneath the/a soft/gentle/warmed earth, its/his/her dreams weave/thread/spin tales of ancient/forgotten/whispered wisdom. In/Within/Through these visions, a/an/the serpent sees/glimpses/observes flashes/streaks/glints of power/knowledge/truth, hidden/obscured/masked from mortal/worldly/ordinary eyes.