Anya felt the current as the slow, deliberate pulse of a root system, a network of life that stretched out into the fertile darkness of their shared narrative space.
It was a garden not of soil and sunlight, but of potential, where every shared thought was a seed, and every resonance a form of rain.
Where Lyra heard a question and Kael a silence to be broken, Anya felt the quiet, insistent thrum of life waiting to be nurtured.
Their individual perceptions, once so distinct, were now beginning to harmonize, creating a chord that was richer and more complex than any single note.