Most of the walk, short as it was, Simon was deep in thought. Not on the situation at hand; even during times as strange as these, Simon had a wandering mind. 

Instead, he thought of the Hunt. He remembered, with half fondness and half guilt, the piercing white of the snow on most days, the chill that had never bothered him or his brothers. Wild fae loved to wear brutish things, but in small amounts; maybe it was vanity, or maybe it was mocking the humans who always seemed to wear heavy furs to stave off the cold. Back then the Wild fae seemed of one mind. No one questioned the King, and infighting was rare. Humans were only thought of as prey or toys, but never as a threat, not really. How far humanity has come.

Yet with all the years passed since the Hunt, Simon was still afraid some days. Wild fae were rare, but not exactly a dying breed. Simon had met some over the years, some like him who had grown to admire certain humans, and some who still followed the old ways and hated humans with a fanatic passion. And rumors always persisted that the King waited, and waited, and waited. What Simon was afraid of was the King coming back, because in the end, Simon was a fae of the Hunt, and his tattoo branded him as such. Simon had lived outside the Hunt because the Hunt had scattered, including the King, but if the King truly returned, there would be little choice for Simon. He would likely have to return. All Simon had right now was a very long leash, and Simon and all Wild fae knew that the King would only let them go in death.

But then their group reached the tree, and Simon dispelled those thoughts. The King had waited thousands of years, and knowing him could wait thousands more. He had no reason to crusade. Simon was safe, so he told himself.

Simon dropped with an almost theatrical grace into the garden, taking it in calmly. His landing was almost spoiled by the hunter's body almost hitting the back of his legs, something he stepped out of the way of with a slight frown. He gave a polite wave to the nymph - luckily Darnies was already going through introductions - and turned his eyes back to the garden.

"Hmm, waterfall interrogation. Nice change of scenery compared to a dungeon or something, at least." Simon clapped his hands together. "Well, I'm eager to get to work, team, so let's hurry on." He set a swift stride to the waterfall. His interrogation skills were likely very, very rusty, but, in his experience, the painful bits were like riding a bike for him - just start brute forcing it and the technique will come back to you like an old friend.