In the stillness of twilight, where whispers dance in shadows, A fox of facets and angles emerges from the quiet. Not of flesh, but of thought - woven from the edges of dreams, It roams the spaces between the known and the yet to be seen. Here, the unseen is a canvas, and the silence speaks in riddles. Trace the lines, follow the echoes, and perhaps you'll find - Not answers, but questions that shimmer like starlight, Guiding the curious through the maze of the mind. Even fox, even night, even dreams - where will they lead? Only the seeker knows, as the fox watches with knowing eyes. evenfox