Orlando
*Esme doesn't know what to say and whereas before she had only pulled away slightly, this time she commits. She is not used to anyone touching her, let alone anyone touching her face. So it makes her uneasy and his words do not help explain the reason behind his actions. Instead, it just adds further questions. Then he grows flustered which amps up the confusion ten fold. Both Sweet Tooth and her exchange a silent glance, as if trying to figure out together without words the explanation behind this. Her lips then part to say something but nothing comes out. Esme is truly tongue tied and in a midst of embarrassment, she shield her head away, pressing her palm underneath her bangs as she looks down in thought.*

"I don't understand..." *She murmurs before finally bringing her head up. She even blinks a few times, flabbergasted that she is requested that such an odd action be forgotten about. Yet with a sigh, she concedes and speaks nothing of it.*

"R-right... The tree." *Esme then speaks, her tone shyer than what it was before.*
"It is best you stay close to me. Even during the day, these woods do not take kindly to outsiders. Within certain parameters, so long as you do not wander from me, you should be shielded from its affects."

*Now awkwardly clearing her throat. She gives a tilt to her head, gesturing for Sweet Tooth to help fetch her bag. As the wisp happily obliges her, the witch moves over to grab her hat. With a feeling of the hem and a minor adjustment to the ribbons. Esme feels complete though she dare not leave empty handed. With a single snap of the finger her grimoire comes flying across the room, perfectly landing in her hands as she then kneels down to grab her bag from the wisp. Not leaving without giving thanks with a small pat of the head. The woods here run warm, so she need not fret about a coat either. She does need to ensure her dress does not get in the way. Walking towards the back, a ribbon appears out of thin air to fit around her waist, making the dress more fitting to her form. As well as long, thigh high boots to match. With magic, she has conjured her adventuring gear to save time.*

"Ready?" *Esme asks after flicking back her locks, allowing them to slowly fall like a stream across her shoulders. Her bangs framing her face as her hair is snug due to her hat.*
Michael
"I will... Tell you more about what I am feeling, but maybe later, I already feel ashamed of my actions." 

*He didn't feel too guilty, it could've been worse. His desire was to feel the squishiness of her cheeks. He had no ill will to do anything else. He walked beside her, and nodded in affirmation. The tree was top priority, along with the fae. His eyes remained constantly on her. No malice behind it, rather he was attentive to her. He gave a slight salut to the wisp. He had a lot of plans formulating in his head, he didn't know that his analytics would go toward creating a sort of personal plan.* 

"As ready as you are." 

*His toes wriggled in his boots, she looked adorable in her adventuring gear. Wanting to make a remark, but felt awkward after touching her face, even if it was of an urge. He was going to use that form again, but once facing the fae. His plan was that he'd be the front line, a sort of tank to absorb damage if they ever encountered the fae, and protect her at all costs. Since he considered her to be a support, with her gear and set up to be that similar to a mage. It was important to keep the support safe, as over time a battle would conclude with their advantage. 

He awaited for her to lead, as he'd follow behind. He smiled a bit, some concern in his eyes, but happy that it would be that she didn't decide against him coming along. He hoped that this minor adventure of there's would be smooth. He knew he had to maintain a certain distance, close enough to react if anything were to approach, and on the other hand to keep a distance to remove that sense of awkwardness or his urges. 

It was true, that his growing attraction toward her was formulating a crush. He had never felt such sensations before, never had he fallen for someone. It was the first time in his entirety to feel the sensations of what one may call "Love". He only knew of cruelty and survival, yet he still questioned... `The Voice` was so eager to protect this woman.*
Orlando
"I see..." *Esme mumbles underneath her breath as she gives Valac a small nod before turning towards Sweet Tooth and kneeling down so that it may climb in her palm.*
"The walk shouldn't be far. But if at any point you feel off. Tell me."

*There are two reasons for this warning. One, the haze doesn't always appear as a visible fog. Sure, Esme is immune and can ward it off. There are rare occasions where the forest maze puts her deeper in. Meaning that her own aura will not be enough to protect all three of them and Esme would have to reveal magic that she would prefer to keep hidden. The second is the unseelie, or easily known as the dark fae problem. They dare not mess with the witch, except for a couple of persistent troubling foes. Names of which she will avoid saying let alone thinking. They targeted Valac once and given they have set their mark, they may try to do it again.*

*Then she steps out, leading Valac into the gardens. There is a prep to her step as she moves. Walking likely a bit faster than preferred, only because she does not wish to keep Valac out in the maze for too long. The forest may accept her, but Esme knows it won't accept him so easily. It will do what it can to keep him out and most importantly, keep him from her. But if Esme wills it enough, hopefully it will concede to her. At least that is her plan. This causes her to fall a little silent as she attempts to think of back ups. How will they deal with the unseelie? What happens if they get separated? Upon realizing her silence, Esme makes a sharp inhale and looks back towards Valac with a warm and gentle smile.*

"I am going to need your help healing the tree. So I hope you are energize enough." *She chirps with a girlish giggle before continuing in her stride again.*
"Help tree! Help tree!" *Sweet Tooth cheers.*
Michael
*With their quick stroll through the forest to reach the tree quickly, he took her warning with consideration. He may not be immune to the haze, but his darkness was quite resistant toward it. Listening to her words carefully, her warm smile was enough to make his hearts melt. He muttered something, but it wasn't audible, but he didn't say any more than he should. He would give an affirmative nod.* 

"I'll do my best." 

*He kept his distance close to her, and he maintained that distance. One to not separate from her and be consumed in the maze that was the forest, second was because of her warning. His eyes remained in contact with her face. He held the hilt of his blade, the sound of a clank. He didn't intend to do anything besides to be ready for anything. Even having to resort to that dark power was a priority when it became dire. He'd do his best to aid her, as he assumed the cost wouldn't be too great.

If it was magic, or mana, he was curious if it was even possible. His magic was of darkness, and its only capability destruction. He concluded it was probably to keep watch. He was feeling euphoric, her smile was enough for the man to say many things. Within he felt unworthy, she was the "Light" And he was the "Darkness". He could never reach the "Light" Is what he felt. Yet, he needed to try out his plan in the soon future before he can conclude it. His pessimism influenced his thought, that there was no chance. The mark on his forehead grew large again, suppressing that thought heavily. It seemed that what was within disdained to the point that caused him to wince a little. `The Voice` the muttered in his ear:"Must Protect... The Light..." Was what he heard. He didn't know if she could hear it too, he knew that Noctis couldn't throughout their journey. Ever since he had awakened his power, `The Voice` had become more social, talkative. Valac would remain silent, forgetting the thought... The pain of disdain finally subsiding.*
Orlando
*Esme may not be able to hear this voice but each time it speaks to Valac. It is like small water droplets on a still water's surface. Tiny pinpricks that tickle the senses, but not enough to disturb the weave and cause Esme real alarm. Valac has shown or at least produce a unique aura since he collapsed in front of her last night. So this is nothing she is truly concerned about. Though perhaps things would be different if she had noticed the black swirl.*

*The witch is distracted. Leading Valac back into the maze of the Spirit Woods, giggling as Sweet Tooth cheers and dances beside her on her shoulder. What is a small quest for redemption for Valac, is all but a minor chore and field trip for the witch. As she walks, small white blossoms sprout from where her footsteps her been. Though they do not linger for long as the petals fall off, one by one and transforming into a beautiful mist that forms into the fireflies... Those same fireflies that Valac had likely seen when he first entered the woods. It appears Esme makes them, at least some of them. It only serves to add to the mysticism surrounding her and as she sways elegantly with each movement. The lights her magic makes illuminates her grace, as not an inch of her is nearly anything less than perfect.*

*She is quick to notice Valac's silence and upon looking over her shoulder. She gestures for him to get closer.*
"There is no reason for you to be my shadow, you can walk side by side with me and Sweet Tooth." *Esme chuckles.*
"The tree shan't be far. I was out gathering when you had come across me. You are lucky... The maze, though it seemed unsettled by the intrusion. Was merciful."

*Though her words may be ominous, she truly does not mean them that way. It is a matter of fact that had Esme not been where she was, Sweet Tooth needing help and the location of which Valac ended up. This tale could have been grim. Not even just for himself, but possibly even the other inhabitants. Esme's grove is not easy to come across either. Should he return one day, the maze could have it be that he never sees it again. But the witch does have some autonomy over what goes and what doesn't around here... At least in these layers of the woods.*
Michael
*He sped up his stroll and walked up right next to her rather than keeping distance. He didn't find her words ominous, but rather grew a little hesitant to be next to her. His face slowly started to flush into a slight pinkish hue with and those sensations felt when she placed her hand on his forehead started to return. His gaze slowly changed from her head to her hand. His head tilted slightly down, but was right next to her. He was trying his best not to be too close, but his distance wasn't to the point that it would be encroaching in her bubble.* 

"O-okay..." 

*With their continuous stroll, he thought maybe she can define what he was feeling. Since his cluelessness as to why his face would feel like it's almost boiling when he was right beside her. He decided to ask, thinking what he was feeling wasn't something good, maybe he was sick or still recovering mentally.* 

"I'd like to ask... This is something I have felt before. Every time, I can't keep my gaze off your face, and my mind can't make sense of why I feel like something terrible is impending. Even your smile makes my feel unusual sensations, something wants me to keep that, it makes me think about things I never really considered. My hearts race, and I can't understand why... I never felt fear, nor anxiety... It feels... Warm, but I feel like it's bad... What am I feeling? Is it even bad?" 

*He hoped she had the answer, the sensations he was feeling. His wording was slightly cryptic but defined quite a lot. He assumed maybe she knew of what he felt. He was next to her, his eyes remained fixed on her hand. He felt the eagerness to hold it. He clenched his fist a little, putting up a good resistance against what was within. He was sweating with anxiety, he even felt that his words have said too much. Maybe he expressed to much, feeling as if he made a terrible mistake. Some guilt of wanting to... Hold hands... Was growing heavy on him, though he didn't express it. He thought it was something bad.*