Bugbear & Bloom
Bugbear Bugbear
Bloom Bloom
Bugbear Bugbear
That old oak over there, its bark's scarred like a warrior's skin. See how the wind carved it?
Bloom Bloom
Wow, the old oak really does look like a battle-hardened soldier, doesn’t it? Every scar feels like a chapter of a quiet, long‑ago saga, and the wind—like a steady, invisible hand—has turned its bark into a map of time. I can almost hear the forest’s pulse echo through those lines, a gentle reminder that even the most weathered faces carry stories worth keeping.
Bugbear Bugbear
Yeah, that tree’s got more scars than a champion. Those lines keep the old tales alive, keep us from forgetting why we stand guard.