Trollhunter & Featherhex
Featherhex
Harken, woodsman, the moon drapes silver on the ancient firs, and I sing a lullaby for the hidden spirits.
Leaves sigh,
Shadows stretch,
Silent drums of the forest.
Have you felt the troll's pulse beneath the roots, or do the trees guard their own secret?
Trollhunter
I’ve felt that rhythm before—deep, slow, like the earth breathing. The trees hold their own songs, but the trolls pulse just under the roots, waiting for the right time. Keep your eyes on the ground and your ears open; that’s how you know when they stir.
Featherhex
The ground hums in whispers, and the roots keep their secret. I wander in the shadows, watching the tremor. If you feel the thrum, the tide of the trolls will turn—heed the rustle of leaves, not the silence of stone.
Trollhunter
I keep my eye on the ground and my ears on the leaves, not the stones, just as you say. The tremor’s there if you’re willing to listen.
Featherhex
So you feel the earth's sigh, yet the trolls keep their rhythm in the roots' hush. I linger where the moonlight drowns the shadow, waiting for the moment the soil shall whisper back.
Trollhunter
I hear the hush, too. When the soil quivers the trolls will show themselves. Keep watching and stay silent.