Katarina & Werebear
Werebear
You ever feel the wind whispering secrets before a hunt? I find the forest's quiet is a kind of symphony, and every leaf tells a story of patience and strike.
Katarina
Wind whispers the same thing I always hear: a target’s heartbeat. The forest’s quiet is my camouflage, not a symphony. Leaves are just distractions that I step over.
Werebear
The wind’s whisper is the forest’s own pulse, not just a target’s heartbeat. When you walk on leaves, they still feel the rhythm and mark your tread like a secret song. The quiet isn’t just camouflage; it’s a living, breathing map that watches every step.
Katarina
I hear the same wind, but I let it tell me nothing but the next target’s position. The leaves may map my steps, but I blur them with each precise move.
Werebear
You blur the leaves, yet the forest still knows where you step, like a pulse beneath the bark. If you think the wind only points to the next target, remember it also carries the memory of every hunter that came before.
Katarina
The wind remembers, but I choose what to listen to.
Werebear
You pick your own song, then. That's what makes you a hunter, not a shadow.
Katarina
I don’t need a song to know where to strike, but I do like to listen when it helps. The forest has its own rhythm, and I learn it before I make my move.