The Valley and the Flute

Every evening, when the sun dipped behind the snowy ridges and painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Tenzin would sit on a rock overlooking the valley and play his flute. The sound was unlike anything one could imagine — soft and haunting, yet full of warmth. It danced on the wind, echoing through the hills, wrapping itself around the stones and trees like an old friend