Cliver nodded at type and headed, set his pack on the ground, ruffled through it to find a harness and rope, and headed off to look over the treeline. There wasn't a lot of variety, but Emmerling had said that pine was fine, so he focused on trying to find a strong, young one. Finding one that looked good put the harness on, through the rope around it, adjusted his sling to be comfortable, and started his accent.

He placed one boot in front of the other, sliding the rope up the shaft as he went. He supposed he could just chop it down at the base, but he knew there were nymphs about. No reason to piss any of them off if he had the time to be careful. Up and up he went until he started to reach the branches, then he unhooked from the rope and grabbed hold of them to pull himself higher. Once he got a fair ways up he rest of a sturdy branch and unsheathed his ax, holding it just under the head. He looked up, took note of where the majority of the weight was on the tree top, felt the breeze, then tapped the trunk at an angle.

"TIMBER!" He shouted, as the entire head of the tree fell off and crashed into the ground far below. Satisfied, he rehooked himself to the tree and started making his was back down.