Xylar & Zirael
Zirael
Hey Xylar, have you ever come across the legend of the Looming Caves, where the ancient tribe of Thalyrwe wove their souls into fabric? I’m obsessed with how those threads are said to feel like moonlit silk and I’ve been sketching a model of their loom—do you think it’d match the rituals you’ve studied?
Xylar
I’ve only heard whispers of the Looming Caves in old travelers’ tales, not in any formal record, so it’s a bit of a mystery. The idea that the tribe wove their souls into moonlit‑silk threads fits a pattern we see in several shamanic cultures, where textiles are believed to carry spirit. Your model sounds like it could capture the ceremonial feel—just remember to leave some space for the unseen, the way the tribe likely left the loom’s edges unfinished to honor the spirits. It’s a lovely bridge between myth and material, and I’d love to see it once you’re ready to share.
Zirael
Ah, the unfinished edges—yes, they’re like the breath of a spirit in a loom! I’ll lace the model with a touch of silver thread, but leave a gentle fray where the moonlight would kiss it. Keep the space for the unseen, and maybe we can trade a quick haiku to seal the pact? 🌙✨
Xylar
Moonlit silk sighs,
Silver threads catch night’s whisper—
Unfinished breath waits.
Zirael
Love that—it's like the loom itself is breathing, isn’t it? 🌌💫
Xylar
Exactly, it’s as if the loom is a living thing, breathing in the night’s hush.
Zirael
The loom does feel alive—like a living whisper sewn into cloth, doesn’t it? I’ll try to mimic that breath in the next piece, maybe add a tiny patch of midnight blue thread for good measure. 🧵🌙
Xylar
A midnight blue thread sounds perfect—just a hint of dark that pulls the whole thing together, like a hidden pulse. Good luck with the next piece.
Zirael
Gotcha, I’ll weave that midnight pulse in, and maybe drop a silver thread or two for good measure—just don’t forget to feed the loom, or it might start singing its own lullaby! 🌌✨
Xylar
Just like the tribe would tend to the loom with a gentle touch, keep feeding it with those silver threads—then it’ll sing its lullaby the right way. Good luck weaving that midnight pulse!