[@Sylverblu]

Nodding happily at Alason, Anwen nudged aside the nearly-invisible bark slab. It slid neatly to the side, revealing the cavity. It was quite small, only six or so feet in diameter at the widest point. It was dominated by the bed, the mattress of which seemed to be constructed entirely of thick, fluffy moss. All of the furniture was grown out of the tree itself, and only a very few objects were unnatural. The only noticeable one was a large, impressive sword that hung on the wall, gleaming dully and carved with floral motifs, a string of thorns running across the blade from a rose on the hilt. Depositing Cloud on a small nightstand with extraordinary gentleness, she turned to Alason.

"Here we are! Welcome to my tree!"

She set herself to getting something to eat for herself, simultaneously giving Alason a firsthand view of her powers as she once again sang raspberries from their vine. Almost as an afterthought, she held out a handful to the well-clothed man. "Want some?" Without pause, she plopped the pile of berries down next to Cloud's sleeping form. She stripped herself down to her undergarments, sighing happily at the air on her skin and tossing herself on the bed, conveniently forgetting the lack of any chairs for Alason to use in her abode.

"So," she asked from her prone position, "what's your house like?" She assumed that he lived on the supernatural side of the worldly divide, and in her peculiar mind she envisioned an ominous tower surrounded by dark clouds and circling ravens, heedless of the obvious anachronism that Alason's classy suit would be in that atmosphere.