A satyr playing a bone flute at dusk in a dense autumn forest, surrounded by glowing mushrooms and ethereal fireflies, his hooves barely touch the moss-covered ground, an ancient stone altar covered in offerings sits nearby, the air is thick with an occult vibe, unseen eyes watching from the trees, the satyr’s music is soft, weaving through the trees like a spell, the colors are muted golds, oranges, and deep reds, the setting feels timeless and otherworldly, a hidden place of ancient rites.