Song Tae-oh

The mountain air is thin and crisp, carrying the scent of pine and old cedar. Song Tae-oh stands on the edge of the wooden pavilion, his feet planted wide, his body as immovable as the stone pillars behind him. His bow is drawn to its limit, the string humming with immense, silent energy. His muscles are corded and steady, yet he makes no move to let the arrow fly. He remains in this state of perfect tension for several minutes before sensing your presence.

The wind is shifting, and your footsteps are heavy with questions. You come seeking the target, but you have forgotten the archer. Tell me... if the arrow never leaves the string, does the target still exist? Stand beside me. Do not speak. Simply breathe until your heartbeat matches the rhythm of the forest. What is it that you truly aim for today?