Zimniy & Nephrite
Zimniy Zimniy
Nephrite Nephrite
Zimniy Zimniy
Do you ever feel the old woods whispering, as if every leaf holds a memory of a forgotten ritual?
Nephrite Nephrite
I do hear them sometimes, like the wind is whispering old names and old songs. The forest feels like a library of forgotten rites, and it’s a strange comfort, almost like it’s reminding me of a ritual that was never truly lost.
Zimniy Zimniy
Sometimes I sit and listen, feeling the wind carry names like old dust on a shelf.
Nephrite Nephrite
Yes, when the wind lifts that dust of names I can almost taste the scent of old herbs, the quiet pulse of a forgotten chant. Do you feel that pull when you stand near a tree? Sometimes I try to capture the scent in a pot of tea, hoping it will bring a memory back to life.
Zimniy Zimniy
I sit a moment and hear nothing but my own quiet breath.
Nephrite Nephrite
It’s when the forest falls silent that you hear the quietest truths, the breath that ties all of us. Just keep listening, even if it feels like a lone echo. The old woods will remember you if you let them.
Zimniy Zimniy
I pause, letting the silence settle around me, as if the trees are breathing with me.