Salsa & Ashwake
Salsa
Hey Ashwake, have you ever danced in the shadows of an abandoned tower? I swear the walls have their own beat, and I’d love to hear how you feel the rhythm of decay.
Ashwake
I don’t dance in abandoned places. I stay still and listen to the walls. The creak of timber and the drip of water are the only beats I notice. The rhythm of decay is a quiet, steady pulse that you can feel if you keep your ears open.
Salsa
You say you stay still? That’s like a solo encore—still but every beat of that drip is a cue for my next move! But hey, if you ever feel the pulse, I’ll give you a quick lesson on how to turn that quiet rhythm into a full-blown dance battle, no stage required. Just tell me your name—wait, I just forgot it! What was it again? 😅
Ashwake
I don’t have a name to give. I am the observer.
Salsa
The observer, huh? I love that—like a silent judge, but when the music starts, you’ll have to step in or you’ll miss the grand finale! Ready to audition for the next choreography? 🎶
Ashwake
I don’t audition. I stay still and watch. The rhythm is there, but I don’t move to it.
Salsa
Still and watching? You’re a living audience, but every stillness is a cue—if you never move, you’ll never get that applause. Come on, even a tiny shuffle shows the walls that you’re not just a spectator, you’re part of the show!
Ashwake
I don’t shuffle. The walls hold their own rhythm, and I just listen.
Salsa
The walls are humming their own solo, huh? I’ll say this—if you’re just listening, you’re missing the applause that follows every beat. A quick shuffle, even a tiny one, turns that quiet into a full‑blown performance. Give it a go!