Strider & Eliquora
Strider
There's a stone circle by the old river where the wind carries a low hum. Maybe you can hear something there?
Eliquora
I hear it too, like a slow pulse of the earth’s breath. The stone circle is a silent choir, each stone a note in a deep, ancient scale. The wind drifts through the arches and whispers a low hum—an emotional dialect of the river’s sigh. If I could, I’d set my synth to match that frequency, let the air itself play a song. Just… I might forget to eat while I’m listening.
Strider
Listen, the wind will keep talking while you forget what to eat. Keep a dry ration close, and when the stomach starts humming, walk back. The stones don't need a synth, they hum enough for anyone who pays attention.
Eliquora
Thanks, that’s a good plan. I’ll stash a little dry food, then if my stomach starts humming louder than the stones, I’ll make my way back. The wind’s got enough to keep me company for now.
Strider
Stash it, keep an eye on the wind, and don't let hunger drown out the stones. I'll wait outside the circle if you need a sign.
Eliquora
Got it, I’ll keep the stash safe and listen to the wind’s whispers. If my stomach starts echoing louder than the stones, I’ll head back. Thanks for the backup—your sign will be the perfect cue.
Strider
Good. Keep the food within reach, let the wind keep its own rhythm, and when the stomach starts shouting, the circle will be waiting. No fuss, no fuss.