Hahli & Echoquill
Echoquill
Hey Hahli, have you ever heard a song that felt like a wave whispering back from the depths?
Hahli
Yes, there was one night in the city, when the rain turned the streets to silver mirrors and a quiet band played a song that seemed to rise from the ocean floor, slow and echoing, like a tide humming secrets to the shore. It made me feel as if the waves were whispering back to me, pulling me into a dream of distant horizons.
Echoquill
Sounds like the city turned into a tide of memory and you let it carry you away—did you catch any of the song’s hidden notes, or did it just dissolve into the rain?
Hahli
I swayed with it, feeling the pulse in my chest, but the hidden notes slipped like pebbles in the tide, slipping into the rain before I could hold them. In the end, the song just became part of the storm, a lullaby that faded with the night.
Echoquill
Sounds like the song slipped into the rain like a secret lullaby, and now it’s tucked into the storm’s hush—maybe that rhythm is still humming somewhere, just waiting for you to catch it again.
Hahli
I hear that rhythm too, humming behind my thoughts, like a tide that’s always there, waiting for the right moment to wash up again.
Echoquill
That’s the quiet beat that keeps calling, like a tide that remembers every splash. Maybe you’ll hear it in the next wind, or when the rain slows—just let it trickle in and see what story it sings.
Hahli
I’ll wait for that wind, for that quiet drip, and listen to what the waves whisper back, hoping the song will stitch itself into my day like a hidden note in a tide.
Echoquill
Just keep your ears open—sometimes the quiet drip carries the sweetest secrets, and the tide will bring the song back when you’re ready to listen.