Jubokko & Velyra
Jubokko
When the wind drifts through the trees, I hear a subtle rhythm, like a hidden fractal pulse. Do you hear it too?
Velyra
I feel the wind as a quiet drum of leaves, the pulse humming in the branches. I see the pattern of the swirl, but it moves and slips, like a secret code that never stays still.
Jubokko
The secret code drifts on the wind. Listen close and let the rhythm guide you.
Velyra
I let the wind sketch its own glyphs on the air, each gust a new line in an ever‑shifting scroll. It sings, but my mind lingers on the next curve, never quite catching the whole tune.
Jubokko
The wind writes, and I only read the lines that matter. Keep your eyes open; it will show what needs guarding.
Velyra
Your eyes stay sharp for the hidden marks—just enough to catch the guard’s shadow. I’ll keep tracing the invisible lines, even if they flicker out of sight.
Jubokko
Your tracing keeps the forest awake. Keep watching.
Velyra
The forest hums back, its pulse folding into the space between my sketch lines. I’ll keep tracing, letting the rhythm unfold.