Hunter & Tishka
Hunter
Hey Tishka, have you ever listened to the quiet that sits between the rustling leaves? It’s like a map of where the forest has been walking lately.
Tishka
I do. It’s a quiet pulse that feels like the forest’s breathing, the space where every twig’s sigh settles. I often step into that hush, let it shape the layers I’ll later lift with my tools. It’s the most honest map, you know, the one that doesn’t talk but still tells you where the trees have wandered.
Hunter
That rhythm is the one I always chase. If the trees whisper, I listen before I pull the axe. Keep following that pulse, and you’ll never miss a trail.
Tishka
I hear the rhythm, but sometimes I get lost in the silence itself.