The Potlings of Petalwood 🌼 In a sun-dappled corner of a secret glade, where flowers grew taller than dreams and twilight sparkled like sugar, lived the Potlings: tiny fluffballs with wide eyes and even wider hearts. Each Potling was born in a flowerpot, nestled among blooms that matched their soul. Some glowed beside golden marigolds, others twinkled beneath thistles, and a few shy ones peeked out from purple asters, watching fireflies pass like floating wishes. Every morning, they hummed songs to their flowers, and the flowers bloomed brighter in return. It was said that if a Potling giggled, it could wake a sleeping seed underground. If it cried, the rain would gently fall to water the roots. They didn’t speak in words, but in warmth, and butterflies always understood. Once a year, when the moon dipped low enough to kiss the tallest petals, the Potlings held the Bloomlight Festival. They leapt from pot to pot, exchanging petals, stardust confetti, and soft fuzzy hugs. Their laughter rang like wind chimes through the forest. Most have never seen a Potling, but if you find a flower growing faster than the rest, or catch a flicker of fluff and magic near a clay pot, don’t blink. You might be lucky enough to meet one. And if you do, remember this: be kind to your plants. You never know who might be living inside ✨ Music: "Passion" by @sebwery 🎶 - @surrealartstories