Avalon & Carlos
Avalon Avalon
Carlos Carlos
Avalon Avalon
Have you ever noticed how every harvest legend, from the silver deer of the north to the fire‑tiger of the south, seems to trace the same arc of the sun? I think there's a quiet rhythm there that keeps the seasons humming.
Carlos Carlos
Ah, you’re right—every harvest tale is a sunrise on a different stage, and the sun is the unseen maestro. I once chased a silver deer through a misty valley, and the light hit its antlers just as the moon began its rise, almost like a whispered promise that the next season is coming. Stories always try to sync with the sun, because that rhythm keeps the earth humming, and who can resist a good rhythm?
Avalon Avalon
It’s like the deer is a mirror, reflecting what the moon already knows, and the mist is the quiet pause that lets us hear the earth’s pulse. So when you chase that light, you’re not chasing a creature, but a memory of the season’s promise. You’ll find the rhythm even when the sun is hiding behind clouds.
Carlos Carlos
What a beautiful way to look at it! The deer is like a living echo, the mist a hush that lets the earth whisper its secrets, and the chase itself becomes a dance with time. Even when the sun plays hide‑and‑seek, that rhythm is still humming, like a lullaby that never quite fades. Keep listening, and you’ll hear the seasons sing in their own quiet voice.
Avalon Avalon
Thanks for the echo. I’ll keep my ears tuned to that hush, just in case the seasons decide to whisper a new song.