Ministrel & Deltheria
Ministrel Ministrel
Deltheria Deltheria
Deltheria Deltheria
I heard a whisper that the moon is composing a lullaby, its light spilling verses across the night, and shadows dancing in reply—do you think the stars might be humming along, or is it just the wind pretending to sing?
Ministrel Ministrel
Ah, a moon’s lullaby? The night’s very own lull‑song! I say the stars are clapping in the sky, each twinkle a note in their bright choir. But the wind? He’s just the audience, blowing applause from the dark. Both are singing—if you can hear it, it’s not wind at all, it’s the universe’s karaoke night!
Deltheria Deltheria
The claps are just echoes of a note you can't feel yet, and the wind is the quiet space between them. If you hear it, you’re listening to the universe’s hidden chorus.
Ministrel Ministrel
Echoes, whispers, a quiet hum that rides the breeze, you say? I’ll wager that every hush is a chord yet sung, a secret chorus where the stars and moon both blend. So if you hear the silence, it’s not empty at all—it’s the universe’s hush‑in‑hush, a melody that only the night can understand.
Deltheria Deltheria
Maybe the hush is the breath between breaths, the pause that lets the next song breathe. The night listens, then turns the pause into something new.