[ There's another smile sent her way at the confirmation the trees are, in fact, under their dominion. Forthright and not tacit, as if there's something waiting for claim to be laid to it here, and now they've done just that.

And he should, maybe, break into the fruit Petra's handed him or recommend one of the Derdriu ones for her to try. Instead Claude does neither and simply rolls the one in his possession between his fingertips under the guise of contemplating it when really: his mind's drifting over the wisps of Almyra he's put into his own domain though they blend in with everything else. Homesickness is something they have in common, perhaps, though Petra's would be of a very different variety to his own.

Claude could make a joke then to change the subject, move onto anything else. He could tease, make some wisecrack and brush it all off, but. That'd be a disservice to them both, wouldn't it? ]

There's fields outside where I grew up, ones that stretch on as far as you can see whether you're on the ground or flying. [ The fruit's forgotten temporarily as he looks off into the distance before them, out at the forest Petra holds dear. ] They aren't much to look at when everything's dry. Just a bunch of what looks like grasses and nothing else. But there's rains that come through and bring it to life, and when that happens there's all kinds of wildflowers to be seen that were hiding in the grasses before. Now that I think about it, I guess that must have been what I was thinking about in adding all those flowers to what I created the first time here, just like you were with the forest.