With a cold morning drizzle chilling her to the bone, Myst watched Mykal bend to seize the tent at the foot of the door, then he quickly rose, sharply snapping the material from the ground, and suddenly stood holding a hooded cloak of supple leather. Turning to her, clearly amused by her bewildered look, he draped the garment over her slender shoulders and it settled comfortably around them as if tailored to her; covering the chemise he lent her, which hung to near her knees, it fell to the ankles of the extremely oversized boots they had bound around her heavily wrapped feet. Mykal made no attempt to explain as he hefted his bow and started off through the woods, leaving her to rush a bit to catch up, while marveling at how well the clearly magical garment dispelled the winter chill. He felt Nys, his enchanted composite long bow, empathic purr, assuring him that she approved of his aid to the wayward half-drow. Sentient magical items are rare, their powerful enchantments actually giving them their-own intelligence and personality, as well as abilities not common to other items of their kind. He knew that she had a sense for the motives and intentions of those around her, and he had learned to trust her judgement, sometimes even over his own. While he lead Myst along barely disternable trails, Mykal couldn’t help but admire her natural grace and beauty, discretely grateful that the cloak concealled her alluring figure from neck to ankle, helping to limit his distraction, but even with his intimate knowledge of the forest’s hidden ways, he knew they wouldn’t reach Tangled Trees until after sundown; the constent drizzle and chilling temperatures making it a less than ideal day for traveling. “I’m sure the people of this Tangled Trees will not be any to welcoming to me,” Myst began as they trudged through the miserable day, “but aren’t they also going to be irritated with you for taking me there?” “Irritated with me is the default position for most of them already,” he only half jested in reply. The truth was that most of the town’s residence didn’t give him a second thought, but his own kin had, and would, never accept him. The sun had descended well below the trees by the time he had led her into a clearly better traveled area, depending on his elven born night vision to guide them. Her drow blood gave her superior vision, but her inexperience in the forest left her all but blind to the woodland’s paths. He came to a stop in what appeared to be the meeting point of paths from all directions, declaring; “We’re here.” “Where?” she quipped with a frustrated bite in her voice, looking about the maze of huge trees, but not seeing any sign of habitation; it had been a long tiring day trudging through the damp, chilly woods. In reply he only looked at her with an arrogant smirk; then shifted his eye’s upward. Following his motion, she turned her gaze skyward to see a web of bridges and decks stretching around and between the enormous trunks. Lit windows, lanterns and globes illuminated the tree bourn town and the clearly humanoid shapes moving about above. With most of the trees leafless, she could see that the town reached upward in several levels, surprising her in its similarity to how Maerimydra had rose around massive stalagmites.