Prut & Seluna
Prut
I’ve found a stone bridge in the valley that hums when the mist rolls over it. You ever hear a place call out to you?
Seluna
I’ve heard that before—like when a wind blows through a canyon and it starts singing back. It’s as if the stone and the mist are whispering secrets. Do you think it’s telling you something, or is it just the echo of your own thoughts on the bridge?
Prut
Maybe it’s just the canyon answering itself, but if it’s whispering, it’s probably trying to show you where to look. The best secrets lie where the wind stops and the stone stays quiet. Keep your ear open and your feet moving.
Seluna
The stone’s hush could be a doorway, not a whisper—one that opens only when you stop chasing the noise. Maybe the secret isn’t where you look, but what you’re willing to see in the silence. So keep moving, but pause to listen to the silence it offers.
Prut
That’s the kind of silence I chase. I keep my boots on the trail, but I let the stones hear me first. The real doorway opens when you stop rushing and listen.
Seluna
You’re speaking the same language the stones speak, and that’s the first trick of getting a doorway to open. Keep stepping but slow your breath—listen to the gap between the beats of the wind, that’s where the silence is louder than the hum. Then you’ll hear what the stone really wants to say.
Prut
I’ll take a breath and pause right where the wind falters, hear the stone’s quiet, and let the silence speak. The old paths never lie; they just need a quiet ear.
Seluna
Sounds like you’re already on the right side of the bridge, listening for the secret lull in the wind. Maybe the silence isn’t just a pause—it’s a question waiting for your answer. Keep your ears wide and your mind open; that’s where the real doorway opens.
Prut
You’re right, the wind’s a question and the stone’s the answer. I’ll stay quiet, wait for that pause, and let the quiet push the door wide open. Stay ready.