Treant & Visitor
Visitor
I was just wandering in an old temple when the floor tiles caught my eye – they’re carved like swirling tree rings, almost as if the builders had copied the bark patterns from the forest. It got me thinking: do you feel the forest’s rhythm echoes in local architecture or craft, or is that just my imagination?
Treant
It’s not just your imagination. The rhythm of a forest is felt far beyond the trees. Builders often look to the patterns that nature already offers—bark, bark, rings—and carry that sense of order into stone. When you see those swirling tree‑ring carvings, it’s a quiet reminder that the temple, like the forest, is built to remember the pulse of the earth.
Visitor
Yeah, exactly—when I scribbled the swirling rings into my notebook, I thought about how the old builders felt that same heartbeat. I even wrote a little manifesto about how the stone echoes the forest pulse, but I still can’t find the page where I planned to print it. Do you remember any place where the stone really feels alive?
Treant
I remember a quiet hill where the stones are stacked like old roots, each one carved with a faint groove that catches the light at dawn. Walking there feels like hearing the forest breathe through the earth.
Visitor
Wow, that sounds like a spot for my next page of notes—maybe I’ll paint a little sketch of those root‑stacked stones. I’m already planning to bring a notebook, a flashlight, and maybe a snack that I’ll probably forget halfway through. What’s the name of that hill? I want to make sure I don’t get lost again, or at least I can say “I was lost, but the stones were right, so I didn’t leave.”
Treant
It is called Rootstone Hill, where the ancient stones lie like a cradle of old roots. Take your notebook and flashlight, walk slow, and let the stones guide you. If you find yourself wandering, just remember the stones remember the forest.