Untitled Storyboard

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She had lived her entire life in the forest, among the trees and the wind.
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One morning, she planted a tiny green sprout in the earth, tucking it into the moss like a secret.
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But not far from the woods, a waterfall sang with a voice too loud to ignore—wild, bright, and full of promise.
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She left the forest to find the waterfall, promising to return before the sprout had time to miss her.
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The waterfall roared with beauty, and she let it carry her days into years.
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But the water darkened. Shapes moved in the mist.
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The longer she stayed, the louder they grew—faces from home, voices that sounded like memory and grief.
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She fled the haunted waters, heart heavy, returning at last to the forest that once felt like shelter.
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But the forest had changed. The moss was thicker. The light came through the leaves in unfamiliar angles.
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Where she had planted the sprout, there now stood a a tree even taller than her.
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She touched the bark, rough with time, and felt the quiet years she had missed etched into every ring.
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The tree had grown without her. It had bloomed, struggled, and reached the sky—alone.
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She was proud of the tree, yet each leaf whispered of the time she had missed.
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The tree might forgive, but time will never let her forget.

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