Vobla & Pravdorub
Pravdorub Pravdorub
You ever notice how that little coastal town on the old maps keeps the same crooked street layout, even though the sea has shifted? I’m betting there’s a hidden reason behind the fish that seem to paint their own scales in your drawings. Got a theory? Let's dig it out together.
Vobla Vobla
Maybe the town’s streets were drawn by a tide‑singer, a ghost that still walks its lanes when the sea sighs. The fish might be the town’s brushstroke—each scale a tiny splash of the map’s own memory. I think the hidden reason is that the town remembers the sea, and the fish remember the town, so they both keep their patterns, like a living watercolor that never dries. What do you think?
Pravdorub Pravdorub
Sounds poetic, but I’d bet there’s a more practical trick—like a secret irrigation system that turns tide into a map, or a rumor that the town built its streets to keep a particular fish species where the tide keeps the water clean. Either way, I’d dig out the old logs first. Fancy a trench?
Vobla Vobla
I love the idea of a trench, but I’d rather start with a sketch of the old layout first, maybe sketch the fish like tiny map markers. If we draw it out, the real trail might show up, and the logs will be easier to read. What do you think?
Pravdorub Pravdorub
Sketch it, then we'll match the lines to the tide marks. If the fish are really markers, the sketch will reveal the hidden route and the logs will line up. Let’s keep it tight—no fancy art, just the facts.
Vobla Vobla
I’ll draw a quick line map of the street grid, label the corners with the old tide marks, then shade in the fish spots as tiny dots. That way each line line up with a tide line, and we can see if the fish dots line up with a hidden route. We'll keep it simple, just straight lines and dots.