SageSorceress & Grimfinn
Grimfinn
I heard the river keep a spell in its ripples—do you know the old words that speak to fish spirits?
SageSorceress
SageSorceress: The river's whispers are ancient, but if you truly wish to talk to its fish, simply speak in the name of the water, “Aqua, echo of the deep, let your kin hear me.” Quietly chant while your hand rests on the stone, and the currents will listen.
Grimfinn
Aqua, echo of the deep, let your kin hear me. I’ll whisper it, stone in hand, and hope the currents are merciful enough to reply.
SageSorceress
SageSorceress: Your words are already gentle. Let the river breathe around you; its reply will come in the rustle of leaves, in the ripple that carries your name forward. Trust in its patience.
Grimfinn
I’ll sit with the stone, hear the rustle, and trust the river to whisper back—though I suspect it prefers a quiet sigh over any spoken name.
SageSorceress
SageSorceress: The quiet sigh is the river’s true voice; listen more to the hush than to your words, and the fish spirits will let you know in the gentle flow.
Grimfinn
I’ll sit with the hush, yet my thoughts keep a storm behind the water.
SageSorceress
SageSorceress: Allow your thoughts to drift like leaves on the surface, and the storm will find its way back to the river’s calm.
Grimfinn
Thoughts like leaves do the same— they drift until the current finds them. Keep quiet, let the river take the rest.
SageSorceress
SageSorceress: Then let the current carry what you hold, and when the river speaks, it will be in the stillness you have given it.
Grimfinn
I’ll let the current swallow my breath, though I'm not sure it ever speaks back to a recluse.