Wildspeak

Wildspeak is the hush between rustling leaves, the low groan of trees swaying under moonlight, the chirr of crickets beneath moss-laced stones. It is not learned—it’s felt. A language of instinct and breath, shared in murmurs by lost forest tribes, slumbering beasts of legend, and the silent mushroom folk who hum across vast myconial webs. Less precise than Druidic, Wildspeak flows like streamwater—gestures, scents, pulses in soil, and sounds carried on wind. It cannot command nature, only commune with it. In the deep woods, when words are gone and stillness reigns, Wildspeak is the murmur that reminds the wild things they are never truly alone.