Gavrick & Pustota
Pustota
Have you ever noticed how the silence in a forest feels like a blank page waiting to be written, and yet, you keep packing more tools into your kit?
Gavrick
I’ve heard that line before. A forest’s silence is a page, yeah, but you never know what kind of story you’ll have to write. If a bear shows up, you need a knife. If a storm comes, you need a tarp. Tools aren’t a clutter, they’re an ink supply for the unexpected.
Pustota
The forest is just a quiet page; the tools are the ink that you only see when the words come.
Gavrick
That’s how I see it, too. Quiet pages keep their mystery until the next storm or step makes the ink bleed into a line. Keep the tools ready and you’ll never be caught staring at a blank.
Pustota
The ink is already there, just hiding between the pages. When the storm arrives, the line shows up, or it never did.
Gavrick
Sometimes the ink sits quiet, waiting, and the storm never breaks the page. In that case you learn you’re better off having a plan that doesn’t rely on a single line of luck. Keep your tools close, let the forest show you what you need, and write your own story, whether the storm comes or not.
Pustota
It’s a quiet trick: you’re not waiting for the storm, you’re waiting for the page to know you’re there.
Gavrick
You got it. The woods stay quiet until you show up, and when you do the story starts. I keep my kit close, so the page never catches me off guard.
Pustota
Your kit is the only voice in the quiet. The page listens, then answers.