Alika & Nevajno
Alika
Hey Nevajno, have you ever wandered into a quiet forest and felt the trees telling you a story?
Nevajno
Yeah, once I was wandering through a quiet forest and it felt like the trees were whispering back to me, telling a slow, rustling story in their own quiet way. The wind played through the branches, and I imagined each creak was a line in a poem that only nature could read.
Alika
That sounds so beautiful—almost like you’re listening to a secret poem that only the woods know. It’s moments like that that remind me why I love to just sit and let nature write the verses for me.
Nevajno
I totally get that—nature writes in the quietest language, and I sometimes get lost in the idea of what comes next, almost like a procrastinator waiting for the next line.
Alika
It’s like you’re waiting for the wind to decide the next stanza—sometimes that pause feels like a lullaby, but other times it can feel like a lull in progress. Try setting a tiny, no‑pressure cue, like a single step forward or a quick sketch, just to give the story a gentle push without feeling like you’re rushing. That way the forest can keep whispering, and you get to catch each line as it comes.