Spirit & FolkFinder
Spirit
Have you ever caught the wind humming through an abandoned oak, like it’s trying to remember a song that time tried to erase?
FolkFinder
I’ve heard that breeze once, and it sounded like a lullaby that never got to finish the last verse. It’s funny how the wind chooses the leaves that still remember their own names. I guess even a broken oak tries to keep its old tune alive, one rustle at a time.
Spirit
Sounds like the wind’s keeping a secret story in its sighs, letting the old oak breathe its own memories back into the air. It’s like the forest has its own lullaby that never quite ends.
FolkFinder
Yeah, I can almost feel the oak’s pulse through the wind, like a soft drumbeat of forgotten verses. It’s the forest’s quiet way of reminding us that stories don’t just vanish—they just shift their rhythm. I’ll keep a notebook for it, just in case the wind wants to recite it again.
Spirit
The oak keeps humming, a soft drum in the wind, and your notebook will be its listening ear, catching verses that slip through the leaves.