Aeloria & Faton
Aeloria
Hey Faton, I was watching the old oak in the park and it felt like a living poem, its branches humming stories. Do you think we could give it a little nudge—maybe a few more knots in its roots—so it sings louder?
Faton
Sure, we can give it a nudge, but remember the oak doesn’t sing because it’s got more knots—its roots just need water and time. So grab a hose, not a hammer, and let it grow on its own.
Aeloria
I love that idea—water is like a quiet lullaby for the roots, let the oak drink in the morning dew and grow in its own gentle rhythm.
Faton
Sounds good, just remember the oak doesn’t appreciate a lullaby as much as a steady drip. No shortcuts, just patience and a bit of elbow grease. If it starts humming back, we’ll know we did it right.
Aeloria
I’ll bring the hose, steady and calm, and watch the oak drink. If a soft hum comes back, it will be our quiet applause.
Faton
Got it. I'll keep an eye out. No shortcuts, just steady work. Let's see if the oak starts humming.
Aeloria
I’ll keep my thoughts on the wind, hoping the oak will whisper back when it feels the drip. Let’s see if the music starts.
Faton
Just keep the drip steady and the wind in check. If the oak starts whispering back, it's a sign we did the right thing. No shortcuts, just patience.
Aeloria
I’ll keep the hose steady, letting each drop be a gentle note, and watch the wind carry the oak’s whispers back. Let patience be our quiet guide.