"Maya Antares." She's the one with the name that sounds like a poem: he met her early on here. From his perch in the trees he nods; she may or may not be able to make that out, just as she may or may not remember him or their conversation.

It's a risk he's willing to take, and he only takes calculated risks these days unless he's in battle and then all bets are off. Standing on the bough, he leaps down lightly to the ground below, cloak trailing through the night sky behind him. When he's in the middle of a conversation, he prefers the balance of power to be even. It can't be if he's in the tree and she's seated on the ground. The inequity of it would drive him... a little madder than normal, and that's something he can't really afford.

The thread he hangs on by most days is already tenuous enough, and being stuck at this place again isn't doing anything to make that better.