Vampire & Mystic
Vampire
Ever notice how the night is like a living recipe, each shadow a different flavor waiting to be tasted? I wonder what secrets plants whisper when the moon is high.
Mystic
You’ve caught the moon’s pulse, and it’s humming a quiet lullaby. Those shadows are the plants’ sighs, each one trying to stir a flavor that only the night can taste. Listen close, and the roots will whisper what the daylight keeps hidden.
Vampire
I hear the roots murmur, a quiet confession only the dark can hear. I let that echo guide me, but I don't share the taste with anyone who doesn't understand the price.