[Yes, thank goodness for Berna's crystal. Every vine that tries to reach him is rebuffed, every branch reflecting off the magic's shielding. It's for the best, and less messy than the alternative, which would have been Thomas trying to burn each and every one of them away when they got too near.
After all, a dryad is just being a dryad. He would do what's necessary, but this is the better option, because as he clambers up, higher and higher, he passes by the area of the tree's drunk that bulges in the contours of a woman's form. The dryad smiles at him, eyes aglow, reaching out with one arm to gently press her hand against Thomas' shield. She is gentle, despite the wreckage she's unduly causing.]
Sorry, madam. Maybe next time.
[And so he swiftly climbs, until he reaches the top, where a hole in the ceiling gapes and reveals the night sky. Thomas leaps off, though he's stolen a little sprig on the way up, landing in a crouch as the dryad continues to grow behind him. Up, up, up.]
Tch! [Oh yes, he's sure this is all causing a fuss both within the auction and the room below. Is there anything left to be salvaged? Not that he cares, and he doubts it. He's sure that was the point.]
Fucking hell. [URGH. Thomas straightens, glancing behind him, then begins to move across the rooftop with a quiet step. He hisses in low tones.]
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After all, a dryad is just being a dryad. He would do what's necessary, but this is the better option, because as he clambers up, higher and higher, he passes by the area of the tree's drunk that bulges in the contours of a woman's form. The dryad smiles at him, eyes aglow, reaching out with one arm to gently press her hand against Thomas' shield. She is gentle, despite the wreckage she's unduly causing.]
Sorry, madam. Maybe next time.
[And so he swiftly climbs, until he reaches the top, where a hole in the ceiling gapes and reveals the night sky. Thomas leaps off, though he's stolen a little sprig on the way up, landing in a crouch as the dryad continues to grow behind him. Up, up, up.]
Tch! [Oh yes, he's sure this is all causing a fuss both within the auction and the room below. Is there anything left to be salvaged? Not that he cares, and he doubts it. He's sure that was the point.]
Fucking hell. [URGH. Thomas straightens, glancing behind him, then begins to move across the rooftop with a quiet step. He hisses in low tones.]
Berna? Still there?