Mechta & Bump
Bump
I’ve watched over this garden for years, noting how a single petal can fall and carry a whole world with it. Do you see stories in those small moments?
Mechta
I do, every time a petal drifts it whispers a secret, a quiet story that only the wind can hear. In that gentle fall, the garden remembers a laugh, a tear, a wish—tiny moments stitched together, turning the ordinary into a living poem.
Bump
I see those whispers. I’ll keep the garden safe, so the wind can carry them on.
Mechta
Your promise keeps the garden breathing, letting every whispered story find its way with the breeze. It’s a gentle act of kindness that turns every petal into a tiny lantern for the wind.
Bump
I watch, guarding each petal's path. The wind will carry their quiet light.