Beneath the whispering pines, the air hums with unsung melodies, ancient tunes that weave gravity-defying dialogues. The forest listens, rapt in secrecy, as voices ripple through like echoes of timeless dreamers.
"Is it not the wind that sings," she mused, "or perhaps the earth's heart that murmurs beneath our feet?" Her words danced in midair, floating like mist under the gaze of a crescent moon.
"It is the language of stars yearning for an ear," he replied, tracing spirals in the twilight with fingers dipped in shadow. "Through lost frequencies, we tune ourselves to the forgotten symphonies of sky-bound souls."
Somewhere untethered, untamed, there lies a door to the eternal frequency - Enter if you dare.