Margana & Morebash
Margana Margana
Morebash Morebash
Morebash Morebash
Hey Margana, did you ever hear the story of the ancient willow that grew at the crossroads of the moon and the river? I was reading about it last night—supposedly it talks to those who listen, but only if you can hear the silence between the leaves. Got any forest legends that’ve kept you humming?
Margana Margana
That willow sounds like a quiet guardian, whispering in the hush between the leaves. I once heard about a moss that keeps the memory of every rain that falls on it, growing brighter when the night is still. I find myself humming to the soft rustle of old trees, as if they’re telling stories I can almost hear in the stillness.
Morebash Morebash
That moss sounds like a memory bank, right? I swear if I put my ear to it, I hear all the little secrets the rain spilled. Maybe the trees are just tired of telling the same old stories, so they leave their gossip in the rustle for anyone who’s willing to listen. Got any other nature‑whisperers you’re trying to charm?