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A watchful owl perches in the hush of a dreamlit forest, its golden eyes reflecting a world alive with color and current. Below, a luminous river winds like liquid starlight through rolling hills, carrying whispers of distant skies. Trees bloom in shades of violet and rose, their branches glowing against a deep indigo night charged with quiet energy. Between earth and cosmos, the owl stands as a keeper of ancient paths—where every bend of the river holds a memory, and every glow tells a story waiting to be followed.
