ShadowQuill & Oriole
ShadowQuill ShadowQuill
Oriole Oriole
ShadowQuill ShadowQuill
I was walking through the old city park last night, and the birds were eerily silent—just a few stray calls echoing off the concrete. One of them felt more like a whispered warning than a normal chirp. It got me thinking about that rumor of the pigeons that disappeared after the council’s last scandal. Have you ever heard anything like that?
Oriole Oriole
Oriole: I’ve got that whisper on my radar. The council scandal hit the pigeons hard—heard a few of them vanish, just a flicker of a call before the silence. I’m on the board, tracing feather patterns and cross‑referencing the city’s whispers. If you’re hearing something, it’s probably not just the wind. Let me know if you want the full story, and I’ll pull up the ledger.
ShadowQuill ShadowQuill
Sounds like a puzzle wrapped in shadows, Oriole. I’ll keep my notebook open for the ledger you mentioned, just in case the truth is written in the cracks between the lines.
Oriole Oriole
Nice, keep that notebook handy—those cracks usually hold the real notes. I’ll dig the ledger and see what’s stuck there. Just watch out for the shadows; they love to play hide and seek with the truth.
ShadowQuill ShadowQuill
I'll watch the shadows with my eyes closed, just in case they slip through. Let me know what you find.
Oriole Oriole
Oriole: I’ll pry the ledger open—hope the shadows hide a clear sign, not just a trick. Keep those eyes closed; sometimes the truth flickers when you’re not looking.
ShadowQuill ShadowQuill
I'll keep my eyes closed, Oriole, and let the flicker of truth catch me.