They whisper back in the same tone you’re speaking to them, half‑sized ghosts of old deals and forgotten promises. I listen for the hiss of a leak, the clink of a streetlamp, the muffled footstep of a passerby, and I sketch the outline of a story in the dark. The city’s walls are the only thing that doesn’t judge you for what you’re hiding. So yeah, they’re perfect background material for a tale of shadows and tricks, if you’re willing to pay attention to the silence.