Rocklord & Lanthir
Rocklord Rocklord
Lanthir Lanthir
Rocklord Rocklord
Hey Lanthir, ever notice how a thunderstorm feels like a drum solo? I love riding that raw, electric energy on stage, and I bet you feel the same rush in the wild. Want to swap riffs and wilderness stories?
Lanthir Lanthir
Yeah, the storm’s percussion is the most honest soundtrack out there, but I usually listen from a quiet hilltop instead of a crowded stage. If you want to trade riffs, just bring the guitar and a pack of binoculars—my stories are best heard while watching the lightning paint the canopy.
Rocklord Rocklord
Sure thing, but when that lightning hits, I'll bring the amps and a storm of riffs to match the wild rhythm—let’s turn that canopy into a stage.
Lanthir Lanthir
Sounds like a concert where the audience is the wind and the lights are the sky. Just remember to keep the amps off until you’re sure the trees can handle the feedback. I’ll bring the trail mix and a good view—maybe we can improvise a duet with a thunderclap and a lone wolf howl.
Rocklord Rocklord
Nice plan—storm setlist in the woods, no audience but the wind will scream our chords. I’ll crank the amps and we’ll let that thunder hit the strings, you’ll catch the howl in your head like a crowd roar. Let's make that nature stage our own arena.
Lanthir Lanthir
Sounds like a wild encore. Just keep the amp volume in check or the trees might get jealous of your solos. I’ll bring my notebook to jot down the wind’s feedback—maybe we’ll compose the next forest anthem together.
Rocklord Rocklord
Yeah, bring that notebook, I’ll bring the amps, and we’ll make the trees jealous of our thunderous anthem. Let’s write the next forest hit, no one will outplay the storm.
Lanthir Lanthir
Alright, but maybe we start with a low volume so the forest can get used to our music before we unleash the full storm—keeps the trees from filing a noise complaint.