[@Lemons]

In retrospect, he hadn't given much thought as to how Anwen reached the living quarters of her tree. He had considered that perhaps there was an entrance at ground level, invisible to him, or that maybe she would climb the vines with the strength of an olympian gymnast. In any event, while he had assumed that there was some exceptionally strange mechanism for getting into the actual 'home' section of the nymph's little private condominium, he couldn't manage the tact necessary to keep his mouth from opening just a centimeter or so when the bark actually peeled off of the tree itself, revealing a cantilever stairwell. She seemed so chipper, inviting him in, seemingly oblivious--what else is new?--to the sheer oddness of it all. Now, while surely in his lifetime Alason had seen his fair share of 'odd' events, he mostly kept to himself and his coven, a bunch similarly preoccupied with maintaining privacy, subtlety, and a courtly air of respect for those to be respected, and hauteur towards all others.

In any event, after this brief pause for thought on the situation at hand, Alason cautiously prodded the base stair with his foot. Applying some weight to it, finding it sturdy, looking to Anwen, back to the stair, a bit more weight, all of it now, and he began to ascend, taking each step a bit more quickly and readily than the last. Upon finding himself at the top, he looked to Anwen, and then back to the tree, neither wishing to breach standard social regulations by inviting himself in, nor wishing to unwittingly enter into what, for all he knew, could be the lair of some plant-deer-bear-man abomination crafted up by Anwen in a passing moment of morning boredom which she had forgotten about in all of her... Anwen-ness.

"After you."