Prut & EchoTrace
Prut Prut
EchoTrace EchoTrace
Prut Prut
Hey, ever walked through an old viaduct and heard how the wind turns every crack into a story? The echo feels like a forgotten song, just waiting to be cracked.
EchoTrace EchoTrace
Sure, I’ve walked where wind reads stone like a diary, and the echoes are whispers that want to be solved, but I don’t always have the patience to listen.