Jarek & Dorian
Dorian
Hey Jarek, ever heard of a forgotten library tucked behind a canyon where the poems are written in a key nobody knows? It feels like a secret for wanderers like us.
Jarek
Yeah, I’ve heard the whispers—an old canyon that cuts into the mountain, and somewhere inside it’s a stone archive that only opens to the right code. Some say the poems are written in a cipher that only the most patient wanderer can decode. It’s the kind of place that makes your pulse race, so it’s no wonder you’re drawn to it.
Dorian
The stone archive feels more like a lover’s promise than a book, Jarek. If only I had a compass that points to the right code.
Jarek
A compass that actually points to a secret code? Sounds like a legend, but hey, when you’re in a canyon full of mysteries, sometimes the only direction you need is the one that feels right. Let’s just trust the stones, follow the whispers, and see where the wind takes us.
Dorian
Trusting the stones feels like letting a broken record play on repeat—each whisper a note I refuse to miss, even if the wind’s just a fickle echo. Let's follow, because the canyon knows no deadlines, only the quiet applause of secrets.
Jarek
Sounds like a plan—let's let the echoes be our GPS and see what verses hide in that canyon.
Dorian
If the echoes guide us, maybe they'll lead to a stanza lost in the wind, just like a forgotten love note.
Jarek
Maybe the wind’s the only one who’ll write the love note for us—let’s hear what it says.
Dorian
The wind’s already scribbling its own verse in the cracks—short, jagged, a sigh that feels like a forgotten lover’s whisper. Let's listen.