In a forgotten corner of the Whispering Peaks, where ancient vines twisted into natural masterpieces, lived a magnificent griffin named Sterling. His feathers were the colour of twilight amethyst, and his powerful beak, a polished obsidian. But it was his eyes that held the most wonder—two vast, spiralling pools of molten gold, reflecting the very stars.
One serene evening, as Sterling watched the sunset paint the sky in hues of fiery crimson and soft lavender, a particularly plump firefly, glowing with a gentle emerald light, landed delicately on his noble nose. This was Flicker, a bold little insect with wings like spun moonlight. Inside a heart-shaped frame woven from shimmering ivy, Sterling sat perfectly still, his giant golden eyes softening with affection as Flicker's light pulsed, a tiny, glowing beacon of friendship against the griffin's powerful form. Their bond, unspoken yet profound, illuminated the quiet magic of the mountain.
