(A tiny white fluff peeks from a crescent moon, ink-bck eyes glimmering like starlight)

  ? Content Notes (For Your Comfort!)"Each tale here wears a different cloak–some stitched from moonlight, others woven from shadows. Not all whispers are soft; not all shadows bite. The worst you’ll find? A brush with existential dread… or a ghost who forgot how to smile. Wander these pages as you would a forest: with curiosity, not fear." No consistent warnings: Assume every tale is a haunted byrinth.

  ?? A Gift of Stories"These stories are starlight–free to catch, free to weave into new consteltions. Use them as nterns, mirrors, or kindling. Tear them apart. Rewrite their endings. Sell them in marketpces, whisper them to strangers, or bury them in haunted gardens. All I ask?If you borrow their whispers, nod to the moon that birthed them. Credit the fluff. ‘Inspired by The Crescent Fluff’s chaos’ will do. Or don’t. I’ll never know. (But the shadows might.)"

  ?? Moonlit Updates“New tales flutter in like moth-winged whispers… usually around two moon phases (read: weekly). But moons wax and wane, and sometimes… I nap. Or chase stardust. Or forget what ‘time’ is.”

  ?? On Silence & Shadows“I adore watching your whispers dance in the dark... but replying?(A shadowy paw flicks the Fluff’s ear)“They’re zy.”“I’m not! It’s just… observing sparks more wonder! And lives! And– “Lives? You napped through a full moon cycle.”“…But I’ll reply if the stars align! Probably! Maybe. …don’t wait up.”“Also, they’re no schor. If a tale’s bones and magic are crooked… you know who to bme.”“Hey! I try! …Mostly.”

  ?? The Shadow’s Warning“Don’t ask for coherence.This is not a ‘collection.’ It’s a fever dream. A diary. A scream into the void.Enjoy it. Or don’t. The Fluff won’t notice either way.”

  TLDR:Tones vary like moonlight. Use these tales freely (credit the fluff). New tales weekly-ish (Reality: chaos). Expertise? None. Magic? Questionable. Comments? I’m here… in spirit. ??

  "Happy wandering, little light. May the Stories Ignite Your Own. ????"

  (The Fluff's Shadow drags the creature into the margins, muttering about "overly dramatic prefaces.")