Bullaun stone in Cumber Upper

No human should ever touch that stone. The rules said it plainly, yet every child in Cumber Upper broke them before learning to tie shoes. They ran barefoot across the warm grass, climbed the low rocks and dipped their hands in the clear water until red marks appeared on their skins. The adults watched from a distance and pretended not to know. They understood the warning, but they also remembered childhood, when discovery mattered more than permission. The village preserved that memory by leaving the place unchanged. It kept its danger, its beauty and its refusal to explain itself.