Aria & Furbolg
Aria
Do you ever notice how the light filters through the trees, turning the forest into a living painting? I find those quiet moments of wonder, when the morning mist dances with the sunlight, to be a kind of quiet song that speaks to the heart.
Furbolg
I hear the same, the light is a blessing in the trees, it reminds us of the spirit that watches over us.
Aria
It’s like the trees are listening too, breathing in the light, and whispering back with a softness that feels like a promise of quiet. It’s almost as if the world pauses just to honor that gentle, unseen guardian.
Furbolg
The forest has ears, that is how I know it listens. It keeps its promise in every breath of wind and shade, a quiet pledge that we must honor.
Aria
I hear that pledge too, echoing through every rustle and shadow. It’s a quiet reminder that we’re all part of something larger, and that the forest keeps its promise just by being there.
Furbolg
I stand with you in that silence, feeling the forest’s promise like a stone in my hand—steady, old, and true.