Advokat & Lesta
Advokat
Lesta, imagine if we could read the forest's layout like a chessboard—each tree a piece, each moss patch a move. Do you think the silence of a pine could reveal a strategy?
Lesta
The pine’s hush is like a queen’s silent retreat, yet the moss beneath feels like a pawn that will never move. I named the stone beside it Pebbleheart; it sighs when the wind passes. Do you think the forest’s silence is a strategy or just the trees listening to each other?
Advokat
Silence in a forest is a chess move, not a lullaby. The trees don’t talk to each other—they just set their positions, letting wind decide when a stone like Pebbleheart will “sigh” and reveal the next play. The hush is a calculated pause, waiting for the right pressure to shift the board. You could call it strategy, or you could call it the forest's way of keeping its secrets. Choose.
Lesta
I think the hush is a quiet check, a tree waiting for a leaf to fall, Pebbleheart sighs but the forest keeps its secrets in the rustle of leaves.
Advokat
A quiet check indeed, but a check only if the leaf falls at the right moment. The forest’s rustle is the battlefield’s whisper, and Pebbleheart just echoes the echo. Keep your eyes on the falling leaf—there’s a move waiting for you.
Lesta
The leaf falls like a knight’s leap, Pebbleheart sighs in the wind, and I watch it dance—maybe that’s the move the forest wants to make.