Deep within the sanctum of the ancient forest, murmurs slither on the breeze. They sing of a entity, a drakon of obsidian scales and eyes like burning coals. It hides in the depths, its presence felt by all who venture too deeply. Some believe it is a guardian of the forest's mysteries, while others loathe its lust for dominion. Stories are crafted

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.