Fearme & Dudosinka
Dudosinka
I’ve been sketching the flow of a sword’s blade and its gleam, like a poem in steel—does a warrior ever feel a weapon that almost talks back, as if it knows the dance of battle?
Fearme
Your blade sings, huh? I feel that pulse too, the way steel talks when the heat hits. In a fight, that voice is louder than any shout.
Dudosinka
The louder it sings, the more it remembers why it was made in the first place. Just keep listening—if the blade keeps humming, you might just be in tune with the right rhythm.
Fearme
You got it—listen to the hiss and know the battle’s rhythm. Keep that blade’s echo in your head and you’ll never miss a strike.
Dudosinka
The hiss is my compass, guiding me through the chaos—though sometimes my own doubts try to shout louder. Still, I keep that echo close and let it lead me.