Skeleton & Volk
Volk
Hey, ever hear the old stone whispering its own stories? I keep catching bits of it in the wind.
Skeleton
Ah, the stone that speaks in rustle and dust. It carries the quiet of ages, each crack a sentence, each grain a sigh. If the wind carries its secrets, maybe you’re listening to the world’s oldest lullaby. Stay tuned, and tell me what it says.
Volk
It says the wind's a memory, and the cracks are old feet tapping forward, urging us to keep walking.
Skeleton
That's a haunting image—feet that have left their imprint on stone and still move the air. Keep walking, and let the wind carry the rhythm of those old steps.
Volk
I’ll keep my eyes on the horizon, listening for that echo. Maybe the wind will teach me a song it has carried for centuries.