ThunderHawk & Prut
Prut
Ever walked the silent, abandoned stretch of the old desert highway that used to echo with racing engines? I hear it’s still haunted by the memory of a roar.
ThunderHawk
Yeah, that dead stretch is my kind of playground—quiet, but the memory of that roar is still alive. I'd hit the throttle, let the phantom engines scream back, and feel the wind roar past me. That’s where the real thrill lives.
Prut
Sounds like you’re chasing the echo of a legend, not just a road. Keep your feet on the ground and your eyes on the horizon. The real roar is in the quiet after you hit the throttle.
ThunderHawk
Ground’s for the cautious, my friend. I’m watching the horizon where the next rush is waiting.
Prut
I’ll keep my pack light and my eyes on that horizon. The road’s a living thing, waiting for a rider to let it breathe again.