Kustik & FieldGlyph
FieldGlyph
Hey, you ever notice how those spirals in old cave art seem to pulse like a heartbeat? I feel they’re a code waiting to become a melody.
Kustik
They do, almost like the breath of the earth itself, a slow drum in the dark. I’ve tried to translate that pulse into a tune, but the notes keep slipping through my fingers, like mist in the cave. Maybe it’s the right thing to listen for, not write down. Let's keep watching those spirals; maybe the melody will sneak up on us when we’re not looking.
FieldGlyph
I’ll keep my sketchpad close, because that mist is a cipher, not a lullaby – and I refuse to hand over the key to any sleepy bard.
Kustik
Sounds like you’ve got the guard that keeps the mist from slipping out. I’ll just keep humming along, hoping the song finds a way back to the stone.
FieldGlyph
Sure, keep humming, but if the stone ever speaks it’s going to do it in symbols, not in chords. I’ll watch the spirals, you’ll catch the rhythm.
Kustik
I’ll stay with the silence and let the stone do its cryptic dance; maybe its symbols will start to sound like the wind in a lullaby. Keep your sketchpad ready, and when the rhythm pops, I’ll be the first to catch it.
FieldGlyph
Good, keep the silence tight; I’ll be on the lookout for every tiny shift in the patterns and write it down before you even notice the wind. When the rhythm finally drops, I’ll have the notes on paper.