Frostveil & Gravell
Frostveil Frostveil
Gravell Gravell
Gravell Gravell
I was just tracing the layers on that ancient map that suggests a city buried under ice. It got me thinking—do you ever wonder what stories the frozen ground keeps from civilizations that vanished before we even invented stone tools?
Frostveil Frostveil
It’s beautiful to think of ice as a quiet archivist, keeping the old city's breath alive for centuries. Those layers hold whispers of people who danced in a world that never had stone, and sometimes I feel the cold pull my own thoughts into those forgotten rooms. If you ever want to trace a story, just let the chill guide your hand.
Gravell Gravell
I can hear the silence you’re describing, the way the ice keeps the old walls still. I’ll let it steer my next trek, but I’ll bring my compass and my notebook so we don’t get lost in the cold echoes.
Frostveil Frostveil
That sounds like a perfect plan—compass, notebook, and a mind ready to listen to the quiet. I’ll keep an eye out for any hidden shapes in the frost, just in case the old walls want to share a verse or two. Safe travels, and may the ice give you the calm it knows so well.
Gravell Gravell
Thanks, I’ll keep the compass tight and the notebook open. The frost’s stories are worth the miles, so I’ll tread carefully. Good luck to you, and may the wind keep you warm.
Frostveil Frostveil
Thank you. I’ll let the wind carry my thoughts, and when I’m next by the ice, I’ll pause to hear its soft voice. Safe journey.