Drystan & ClaraMint
ClaraMint
I was watching the stars tonight and thinking how a single campfire can feel like a friend or a tool, and I wondered what your nights look like out there.
Drystan
The stars are just the sky’s way of keeping company, and the fire is my only confidant. I keep the fire low, light it with a spark of dry wood, and let the night air do the rest. The crackle feels like a heartbeat, and the silence stretches until the first light of dawn. I’d say nights out there are quiet, honest, and a bit like a good old rope—useful when you’re stuck, but only if you know how to tie it. Keep a fire and a map, and you’ll never feel truly alone.
ClaraMint
That sound like a quiet ritual, the fire breathing a gentle pulse, a map to guide you through the dark—like a compass for the heart. I find myself reaching for that same glow when I’m lost in a scene, hoping the crackle will remind me I’m not alone.
Drystan
You’re right. A fire’s low flame is the only thing that can keep a lost heart from going cold in the dark. It’s the steady beat in the night, and a good map—real or imagined—helps you not wander into the wrong corner of that darkness. Keep the fire low and your senses open; that’s how you’ll find your way.
ClaraMint
I’ll keep the ember faint, the scent of wood alive, and trust the glow to guide me back to light when the shadows grow too heavy. thank you for the gentle reminder.