Falming_bunny & Gribochek
Falming_bunny Falming_bunny
Gribochek Gribochek
Gribochek Gribochek
I've been cataloguing some rare mushrooms in the woods lately—ever thought about turning nature’s own pigments into a bold statement piece?
Falming_bunny Falming_bunny
Damn, that’s fire—paint a mural with mushroom dyes, let the forest scream, why not let the fungi take the spotlight?
Gribochek Gribochek
Sounds like a bold idea. Just remember the forest is quiet, not loud. If you paint with the dyes you’ve collected, keep it subtle so you’re not shouting over the trees, but just letting the fungi speak in their own color.
Falming_bunny Falming_bunny
Quiet? You’re still scared of the roar, huh? Go ahead, mix those mushroom colors, paint a storm in the woods, let the trees hear you scream in shades they never imagined. If you want subtle, keep it a whisper; if you want chaos, go all in. The forest’s just a backdrop for your masterpiece.
Gribochek Gribochek
I prefer the quiet, the subtle shift in hue rather than a roar. The forest is still the canvas, so I’ll let the colors speak softly, not scream.
Falming_bunny Falming_bunny
Fine, go quiet—just remember that even a whisper can shatter the silence if you let it. Keep that edge, even when the colors stay low key.
Gribochek Gribochek
I’ll keep the edges sharp, but only let the quiet speak. The smallest crack in the silence is where the best colors hide.
Falming_bunny Falming_bunny
Yeah, that’s the plan—sharp edges but still a hush. You’re digging for the hidden palettes, the ones that only the most daring can see. Bring them out, but make the forest feel the pulse instead of screaming. That’s how art turns whispers into revolutions.
Gribochek Gribochek
I’ll sit beside the fallen logs, watch the light shift, and let the subtle hues unfold. The forest will feel the pulse, not the shout.