Roman & Slan
Slan
I've been thinking about whether the ruins of forgotten cities really speak to us, or if they're just silent witnesses—what do you think, Roman?
Roman
Ah, the ruins, they seem to murmur if you know how to listen, yet they can also be just quiet, holding their own secrets. I feel them as a living dialogue between stone and memory, a reminder that history speaks only to those who dare to hear.
Slan
Yes, but only if the stone has any desire to communicate; otherwise it's just a collection of mortar and memory. The real question is whether we can hear it before we become part of the silence ourselves.
Roman
Indeed, it’s a fine line—stone may or may not wish to speak, but the very act of listening turns us into part of its story, so perhaps we already share its silence.
Slan
It’s as if the silence itself is listening, and we’re just trying to catch its breath.It’s as if the silence itself is listening, and we’re just trying to catch its breath.
Roman
I hear you, and that’s why I keep wandering, tracing the faint breaths of forgotten streets, hoping to catch that quiet echo before it slips into the endless hush.
Slan
Your wandering is a quiet dialogue with the past, but remember that the best echoes often refuse to be caught; they simply linger and fade, and we must learn to sit with that silence rather than chase it.