Deep in the heart of Enchanted Forest, where the trees hummed lullabies and the brooks giggled secrets, lived a boy named Will. His hair was as wild as a bird’s nest after a windy day, and his pockets were always stuffed with odd treasures—a shiny pebble here, a feather there, and once, even a very confused frog named Ribbit.

One morning, as Will skipped along the mossy path, his nose twitched. The air smelled like warm cinnamon and something else… something mysterious, like a sock left in the rain too long. Sniff-sniff. A rustling sound came from the bushes—crinkle-crunch!—like someone stepping on a bag of potato chips. Will peeked through the leaves and saw a tiny, golden door nestled in the roots of an ancient oak. It was no bigger than his palm, with a brass knob that gleamed like a sunbeam.

"Ooooh," Will breathed, his fingers tingling with curiosity. He reached out and gave the knob a twist. Click! The door creaked open, revealing a dark, cozy space that smelled of old books and buttery popcorn. A voice, soft as a kitten’s purr, floated out: "Only the patient may pass. Solve my riddle, and the forest’s secret is yours."

The door snapped shut with a slam! Will jumped back, his heart doing a little boing-boing in his chest. On the door, words appeared in glowing letters:

"I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?"

Will scratched his head. "Hmm. A mouthless talker…" He sat down on a rock, which felt as lumpy as a sack of potatoes. The forest around him buzzed with life—bees hummed, leaves whispered, and somewhere, a squirrel dropped an acorn with a plop! Will’s stomach growled. He’d forgotten his snack at home, and now his tummy sounded like a grumpy bear.

"Maybe it’s a… ghost?" he muttered. But ghosts didn’t need wind. He kicked a pebble, and it bounced off a tree with a ping! "A cloud?" No, clouds didn’t hear. His shoe untied itself, and he tripped over his own laces, landing face-first in a patch of clover. Splat! The clover tickled his nose, and he sneezed—achoo!—sending a butterfly fluttering away.

Will sighed. His knees were grass-stained, his shoelace was now a knotty mess, and the riddle still made no sense. He flopped onto his back, staring up at the sky. The clouds drifted by, puffy and slow, like they had all the time in the world. Wait a minute…

"An echo!" Will sat up so fast he nearly bonked his head on a low branch. Thwack! "That’s it! An echo speaks without a mouth, hears without ears, and needs wind to carry its voice!" He scrambled to his feet, his shoelace flapping like a sad noodle, and shouted at the door, "The answer is an echo!"

The golden door swung open with a happy creak! Inside, the air shimmered like a soap bubble, and a warm, golden light spilled out. Will stepped through and found himself in a clearing where fireflies danced and the grass felt as soft as his favorite blanket. A tiny, silver key lay on a mushroom, glowing gently. The voice chuckled, "Well done, little solver."

Will grinned, his cheeks as round as apples. He picked up the key, which was cool and smooth, like a river stone. As he held it, the forest seemed to sigh with happiness—the trees swayed, the brook giggled louder, and even Ribbit the frog croaked a cheerful tune from Will’s pocket. Ribbit-ribbit!

From that day on, Will knew that even the trickiest puzzles could be solved with a little time, a lot of patience, and maybe a snack or two. And whenever he heard an echo in the forest, he’d smile and whisper back, "I know your secret."