Spriggan & Kawa
Kawa
Hey Spriggan, I just spotted this super odd vine that glows faintly at night—ever seen anything like it in your forest?
Spriggan
I’ve heard whispers of a moon‑glow vine deep in the old hollow, but it’s not a common sight. The bark is pale, almost translucent, and it flickers like fireflies when the moon’s high. It’s a delicate thing—if you touch it, the light brightens, then fades. If you’re curious, stay close but be careful. The forest keeps its secrets for a reason.
Kawa
Wow, a moon‑glow vine? That’s like a living firework tucked into a shadow! I could totally sketch it—pale bark, twinkling lights, maybe add a few sleepy owls watching from the treetops. But hey, if it brightens and then fades when you touch it, maybe it’s shy. Let’s go, but I’ll keep my sketchbook ready for the moment it decides to glow again—just in case the forest wants to see my art too!
Spriggan
Sounds exciting, but remember that vine’s light is a sign of its nerves. If it feels your touch, it may retreat, and the forest will warn us with a hush. Keep your sketchbook in a hand that’s not too eager to pull, and let the vine breathe. The owls you imagined will likely be watching—listen for their hoots before you make the next move. Good luck, and be gentle.
Kawa
Got it—hands steady, heart calm, sketchbook hidden like a secret treasure. I’ll watch the owls for their wise hoots and let the vine breathe. If it flares up, I’ll step back and let it glow in peace. This forest is full of quiet magic, and I’m just here to soak it in, not stir the pot. Good luck, Spriggan, we’ll keep our noses to the wind and our eyes on the moon.