In the crimson twilight, a solitary Raven named Morrigan sat atop the ancient stone monolith, overlooking the ethereal expanse of the Whispering Woods. The sun's last rays danced on Morrigan's lustrous plumes, weaving hues of violet and indigo into his wings, as the forest awakened with whispers of twilight's embrace. The tranquility was broken only by Morrigan's introspective thoughts, the recount of a thousand tales carrying the wind's silent ear.

Morrigan drummed his bead-like eyes, reflecting the shimmering water beneath, as if in thought, or perhaps simply submitting to the primal call of reflection. The serene landscape lay before him, intricately woven tapestry of dimensions untold, with vivid hues of the encroaching twilight merging into the tranquil waters. However as Morrigan's gaze turned towards the woods, his affable intuition piqued, for amongst the shadows played strange movements - uncharacteristic for the normally placid woods. His keen eyes pierced the darkening forest, the scene unraveled like a puzzle, the missing piece eluding Morrigan. A shiver ran down his spine as the mystery unfolded.

The great Raven's questions stirred in the silence, slicing through the twilight with unyielding curiosity. Was it the arrival of change? Or perhaps the echoes of the ages, edging ever closer in the ethereal landscape? Morrigan let the enigma remain, as only time could reveal the whispered wonders encased in the Whispering Woods, a forgotten narrative unfencing with each passing moment, guiding Morrigan to a newfound understanding.