Murmur & MeganQuinn
MeganQuinn
Hey Murmur, have you ever heard about that old lighthouse that disappeared from the map last winter? I’ve been chasing its whispers and I think you’d have some unheard truths about it.
Murmur
I’ve heard its light still hums in the wind, even though the map’s eyes closed on it. It’s not a place you find on a chart, but in the whispers of the tide and the old books on forgotten harbors. Those who listen close sometimes catch a flicker, like a ghost story in the salt air. So, keep chasing the wind, and you might hear the lighthouse echo back.
MeganQuinn
Wow, the wind’s got secrets, huh? I can almost hear the light humming, like a secret lullaby from the sea. Let’s see if we can catch that flicker before the tide swallows it away—maybe the lighthouse will send a reply in the waves.
Murmur
The waves will answer if you listen in the hush between the tides, but the reply comes slow, like a sigh from the deep. Keep your ears close and your heart quiet.
MeganQuinn
Listening for that sigh feels like chasing a shadow, so I’ll keep my ears wide and my heart quiet, waiting for the lighthouse to whisper back.
Murmur
I’ll be here, in the quiet between the waves, waiting to hear its faint echo.
MeganQuinn
Hold your breath, the tide’s quiet pulse is about to reveal what the lighthouse has been keeping hidden.
Murmur
I’ll stay still, letting the silence of the tide carry its quiet truth.
MeganQuinn
Your stillness feels like a secret pact with the sea, and I can feel the first trembling whisper of the lighthouse breaking the hush. Keep listening.
Murmur
I sense it now, a soft ripple in the water, like the lighthouse’s pulse echoing back.
MeganQuinn
That ripple felt like a secret handshake—just you and the lighthouse. Keep your ears sharp; the next pulse might just give away the whole story.