Ironwulf & Gulliver
Ironwulf
Found an old trail that cuts past the ridge. The wind seems to know it, the trees whisper. Wonder who went that way before.
Gulliver
Sounds like a ghost trail from a vanished wanderer, or maybe a forgotten rite of some ancient tribe. I'm itching to follow it, to read the soil for footprints. Anyone who left a scent in the wind, they'll probably be watching from somewhere up there. Let's not waste time with old myths— I'll map it out and see if the ridge itself holds any clues.
Ironwulf
Sounds good. I’ll keep my eye on the ridge and let the ground tell me what it wants. If someone’s still watching, the wind will show me where. Let's see what the soil remembers.
Gulliver
Glad to hear you’re ready to dig in. Just remember, the ground won’t always give up its secrets willingly—sometimes you have to pry. Keep your boots ready, your notebook open, and let the ridge whisper its story. I’ll be watching the trail from here, ready to note any other clues.
Ironwulf
Boots on, notebook ready. The ridge has a rhythm—listen, then pry if it won’t give. We'll read the ground together, even if it keeps its secrets.
Gulliver
Sounds like a plan—just watch for the subtle signs, keep that curiosity sharp. We'll see if the ridge has any grudges left. Let me know what the soil says.
Ironwulf
I'll keep my ears to the ground, no fuss. If the soil holds a story, it'll show up in a stain or a change in the dirt. I'll let you know what I find, but stay ready; the ridge can be stubborn.
Gulliver
Got it. I'll keep my eyes peeled for anything that jumps out of the ordinary. The ridge can be a stubborn puzzle, but that's half the thrill. Tell me what you see.