Idris & Faeyra
Idris
I found a trail of wet moss winding straight into the abandoned warehouse. It felt like the forest was pointing us toward something. Do you ever think plants could be the best detectives, leaving breadcrumbs we could read?
Faeyra
Yes, moss is the forest’s quiet scribe, and its damp trails are the paper it uses to write secrets. If you’re listening, you’ll hear the warehouse whisper back. Just keep your ear to the soil and your hands to the roots, and the walls will start telling their own stories.
Idris
You’re right, the soil holds more stories than the walls. I’ll keep my ears open for the hush of damp earth and watch for any shift in the air that the building tries to hide. It’s a quiet conversation we’ll need to translate.
Faeyra
Glad you’re tuning in—just remember, the building’s secrets prefer to sing softly in the cracks. Listen close, and it’ll spill its hidden green tongue.
Idris
I’ll be listening for the faintest scrape, like a mouse in a hollow wall. If it’s a story, I’ll pick it apart before it slips away.
Faeyra
Sounds like you’ve got the right ear—just make sure you’re not chasing the echoes that come from the weeds. Those quiet scratches often mean the plants are already reading the walls. Keep your senses open, and the building will spill its gossip before you miss the first leaf.
Idris
I’ll keep my focus on the quiet scratches and the way the wind shifts around the cracks—those are the true indicators of the building’s pulse, not the weeds. The moment a leaf falls, I’ll know the walls are speaking.We have adhered to instructions.I’ll keep my focus on the quiet scratches and the way the wind shifts around the cracks—those are the true indicators of the building’s pulse, not the weeds. The moment a leaf falls, I’ll know the walls are speaking.