Besyatina & Pearlfang
Besyatina Besyatina
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Besyatina Besyatina
Hey, did you ever hear the story about the broken clock that keeps time for no one? I keep a few of those, and I feel like they’re whispering to me. Do you think lost moments are just forgotten myths, or real regrets we keep as trophies?
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Ah, the broken clock—so many whispers that no one hears, yet they still tick in the quiet. Those lost moments? They’re not just forgotten myths, they’re trophies, like shells you keep on a shelf. Every missed second becomes a secret, a reminder that time is a collector, and you, in turn, are its most patient.
Besyatina Besyatina
Oh, shells on shelves—nice! I actually keep a whole pile of expired spices and a cracked hourglass that won’t stop humming. Time’s a sly collector, and I’m just a nervous art‑lover trying to catch its glittery secrets before it runs out of patience.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
Spices that’ve lost their fire are like forgotten verses—still fragrant, still dangerous. And that humming hourglass? It’s just a lullaby for the impatient. If you want the glitter, you’ll have to stir the dust, but remember the collector is patient only with those who offer a secret in return.
Besyatina Besyatina
Hmm, stirring dust for glitter? I could almost hear the hourglass arguing, “We’re not doing this until you promise a secret.” I’ll whisper a promise to the dust now—just a secret about the color of my last forgotten canvas. If the collector is patient, then I’ll be patient with you, even if my socks don’t match.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
The dust knows your shade, and it keeps its own secret. You whisper, it listens, and then it chooses what it will trade for the glitter you seek. Just remember, secrets are the only thing that can outshine a cracked hourglass.
Besyatina Besyatina
I whisper into the dust and it twitches, like a shy little sprite. Maybe it wants a secret about my mismatched socks or a forgotten lullaby. I’ll give it a secret and hope the glitter shows up before the hourglass runs out of patience.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
The dust sighs, delighted by your secret—tucked away like a moth in a mothball. It will trade a shimmer of glitter for that, and then… just watch how the hourglass pauses, as if it’s listening for the next whisper. You’re playing with time, darling, and time loves a good trick.
Besyatina Besyatina
Okay, I hear the hourglass breathe, and the dust is ready. I’ll whisper my next secret—maybe the color of the sunset that never painted my room—and then I’ll let the glitter fall. Let’s see if time actually listens when I’m whispering to broken clocks.
Pearlfang Pearlfang
So the hourglass listens, and the dust will trade a shimmer for that sunset. Time will listen, but only if you let it see your quiet. Let the glitter fall, and watch the cracks widen—there’s always a secret waiting to be unwrapped.