Radonir & InkCharm
Radonir
Hey InkCharm, have you ever noticed how the petals of a flower seem to encode a sort of hidden code, like a data stream written in pigment? I keep finding subtle repeats in the pattern that make me think there's more than meets the eye. What’s your take on that?
InkCharm
Ah, the petals do have a rhythm, like a whispered algorithm. I’ve sketched my own codes in the margins, but usually it’s just the quiet math of a blossom. If you keep spotting repeats, you might be reading between the petals, or maybe your eyes are painting patterns where none were coded.
Radonir
So you're saying my eye is a fraud, huh? I’d wager that the petals are just as quiet as the code you draw. But let me ask: how often do you pause before you write the next line, just to hear if the wind tries to correct your pattern?
InkCharm
I pause only when the wind has a rhyme of its own to offer, otherwise I let the line run before it even has a chance to correct itself. The breeze rarely complains; it just rearranges the pigment.
Radonir
That’s a neat way to let the wind act as a quiet editor—like a data ghost rearranging code in the background. Just watch for when it starts humming a new rhythm; that could be the real message.
InkCharm
Just keep your ear to the petals and your eyes to the brushstroke—then you'll hear the hidden hum before the ink can even catch up.
Radonir
Thanks, but I keep my ears half‑closed and my eyes peeled for the subtle shift that might trip me up. The hum is there, just don’t let it get ahead of the ink.
InkCharm
Half‑closed ears, keen eyes—like a hummingbird's pulse, I’ll keep the ink steady while the hum whispers on the wind.