Splinter & Azura
Azura
Hey Splinter, have you ever watched how the tide rolls in—slow, relentless, almost like a teacher— and thought about what it could say about patience and change? I'd love to hear what you make of that.
Splinter
The tide is a quiet teacher, moving at its own pace, never rushing. It reminds us that change comes steadily, that patience is not passive but a willingness to wait for the right moment. When you stand by the shore and watch the water rise and fall, you learn that even the strongest forces do not need to hurry; they simply keep working. In that rhythm we find a lesson: endure, adapt, and trust the process.
Azura
That’s exactly what I see when I’m staring at the shoreline. The water doesn’t rush—just keeps moving, shaping everything quietly. It’s a good reminder that progress is often a slow tide, not a sprint. Keep watching, keep listening.
Splinter
Indeed, the shore listens to the tide without complaint, and in that listening we learn to let go of haste. When you keep watching, you learn that each small wave is a lesson in persistence. Let the water guide you, and the rest will follow.
Azura
I hear that. The waves do what they do without complaint, and in their silence we learn to move with the flow instead of fighting it. It’s a quiet lesson in patience, and I try to let that rhythm guide my own steps.
Splinter
That's a quiet wisdom. When you follow the rhythm of the waves, you find your own pace and your own strength. Keep listening, and the sea will teach you more with each tide.