Deduwka & Klen
Klen
Deduwka, I’ve been walking past the old oak again, and something about its trunk feels different than what the tales say.
Deduwka
Ah, the oak has been there longer than any story, so it knows more than the tales. Listen to the way its bark feels, and you’ll hear the seasons whispering—sometimes the most important changes come in quiet, subtle shifts.
Klen
You’ve got a point, but I still gotta keep my eyes on the real stuff—those animals that actually make the forest tick, not just the old bark talking to itself.
Deduwka
Absolutely, the animals are the heartbeats of the forest. Watch the squirrels gathering nuts, the owls watching the night, and the foxes howling at the moon—each one tells a story of life that’s still unfolding. The old oak is a silent witness, but it’s the living creatures that truly keep the forest alive.
Klen
I’ll give the squirrels a nod, but if the owls start lecturing me about night‑time etiquette I’ll be back to the ground. The forest’s still going to run on its own rhythms, no matter how cute the critters are.
Deduwka
Sounds like a good plan—watching the squirrels is a nice way to keep in touch with the everyday rhythm. And if the owls start giving a lecture, just smile and carry on; the forest knows its own tempo. Keep listening, and it’ll remind you that even the quiet parts have a voice.
Klen
Alright, squirrels it is. If the owls start lecturing, I’ll just keep my eyes on the bark and let the forest do its thing. The quiet parts always have a voice, but I’m not paying the fee for a talk show.