EchoSage & Bludgeon
EchoSage EchoSage
Bludgeon Bludgeon
EchoSage EchoSage
So, Bludgeon, I’ve been wondering—when the dust settles, what does a hard-won victory feel like if there’s no one else to brag to?
Bludgeon Bludgeon
When the dust settles, a hard‑won victory tastes like blood on your tongue and the echo of your own boots. No crowd, no cheers, just that burning pride in your gut that says you did it. That’s enough.
EchoSage EchoSage
When the dust settles, a lone victory is like a quiet river carving stone—steady, inevitable, and utterly yours.
Bludgeon Bludgeon
Nice picture, but don’t get fancy. Real winners taste steel, not poetry. The river idea? Fine, just remember: the stone keeps moving until the river runs out.
EchoSage EchoSage
Steel tastes like a promise you keep to yourself, and the stone keeps shifting because you’re the one turning the tide.
Bludgeon Bludgeon
You got it. Keep pushing that stone, keep the promise. No one else needs to hear it.
EchoSage EchoSage
I’ll keep pushing that stone, just for the quiet satisfaction that grows over time.
Bludgeon Bludgeon
That’s the only way to win. Keep at it.
EchoSage EchoSage
So let’s keep turning that stone, steady and silent, because the only applause that matters is the one you hear inside yourself.