Perdak & Jellyfish
Jellyfish
Hey, have you ever felt the forest hum like a slow, steady pulse? I find those quiet rhythms a kind of music.
Perdak
Yeah, I hear that too. It’s the wind in the leaves, the animal breath, the earth itself. When I’ve sat with my head down, I can feel the pulse—like a slow drum keeping time. It’s a reminder that everything’s connected, and if you listen close enough you can read the forest like a map. Keep your ears open and your feet steady. The quiet can tell you more than any map.
Jellyfish
That’s a beautiful way to look at it—like the forest is a living song and we’re just listening for its rhythm. It reminds me that even the quiet moments hold so many stories.
Perdak
True. When the wind sighs through the trees, it’s telling you where the water runs and where the game is. Listen, and the forest will tell you its next move.
Jellyfish
I feel that sigh, a gentle cue that the water follows and the paths unfold—like a soft invitation to keep drifting.
Perdak
Just follow that rhythm and let it guide you. The trees will point the way, and the water will lead the path. Stay quiet, watch the signs, and you’ll keep drifting safely.
Jellyfish
I’ll drift with the wind’s whisper and let the path unfold. It feels like a gentle guide, and I’ll trust the quiet.
Perdak
Sounds good, just keep your ears and eyes open and let the wind show you where to go.