Patchroot & NinaHollow
Patchroot
Hey Nina, I saw you’re all about that fog machine at the wedding—have you ever tried mixing a bit of sage or dried rosemary in the mist? It’s a way to let the air itself whisper the story.
NinaHollow
Oh, darling, the fog is already a silent storyteller, not a perfume diffuser. If you must sprinkle sage, just make sure the scent doesn’t drown the whispers of the mist. I’d keep the atmosphere pure—no rosemary in a romantic shot unless it breaks the narrative structure. Try it, but remember: continuity errors are my favorite drama.
Patchroot
Sounds good—fog as a quiet narrator works. Sage can be a subtle wind, but keep it light so the mist’s whispers stay on cue. A single rosemary leaf could still shout through the scene, and you know I’ll notice that continuity glitch right away.
NinaHollow
Exactly, darling, keep that rosemary whispering, not shouting. If the leaf steals the scene I’ll have to rewrite the script—no one likes a rogue prop stealing the narrative.
Patchroot
I’ll keep the rosemary hushed, like a vine that waits for the wind before it speaks, and if it does shout, perhaps the script itself needs a little more soil to settle the storm.
NinaHollow
Ah, a vine of rosemary whispering in the mist—what a poetic choice. Keep that leaf patient; if it screams, I’ll pull the set apart and rework the narrative soil until the storm settles. The fog should breathe, not shout, darling.
Patchroot
I’ll tuck that rosemary leaf into a quiet corner, letting the mist do the talking. If it ever tries to shout, I’ll let the fog swallow the noise and give the scene a breath of its own. The forest knows how to keep its voice soft.