Trollick & Patchroot
Trollick Trollick
Patchroot Patchroot
Trollick Trollick
Patchroot, ever notice how people keep calling everything “natural” but still use the same old tricks? I’m thinking of turning a simple tea into a wild card—ready to see if your herbs can survive a little chaos?
Patchroot Patchroot
You know, calling something “natural” while using the same tricks is like saying the sky is flat just because we all know where the horizon is. A tea turned wild card? Herbs will dance to the chaos, but they'll still keep a memory of the old rhythm. Let’s see what you’ve got—maybe it’ll grow something new.
Trollick Trollick
You’re right—if herbs remember the old rhythm, they’ll still groove. But I’ll twist it: add a splash of something that makes them sing in a different key. Let’s hear the new beat.
Patchroot Patchroot
Sounds like you’re tuning the notes to a different string. Just keep an eye on how they react—nature likes its own tempo, but a new beat can still play a tune if you’re careful.
Trollick Trollick
Just watch the rhythm shift, yeah? I’ll crank up the beat and see if those herbs start jamming in a new key.
Patchroot Patchroot
I’ll keep a quiet note of the scent shift; even a wild beat leaves a trace that the leaves can read. Just be sure the wind hears it, too.
Trollick Trollick
Got it, I’ll make the wind the loudest fan and the leaves the shy critics—let’s see if the breeze starts a gossip session.
Patchroot Patchroot
The wind will let its own whispers go first, and the leaves will just nod like old timers. If they gossip, it'll be gentle—no need to ruffle more leaves than you can count.
Trollick Trollick
So the wind starts a whisper‑party and the leaves play the polite audience—just enough drama to make the garden gossip, no full‑blown leaf‑storm.