Lynise sat up slowly, the edges of her vision were dark blurs that were rapidly clearing with growing awareness. "My tree?" She says slowly and looks around. She twitches, looking at the garden in disgust, it was so artificial to her. While a human would declare the garden as appealing to the eye, through the eyes of a dryad the planned positioning of the foliage was like a slap in the face, and a part of it now was the only thing keeping her alive. "It is my tree!" She cries out as she frantically tries to dig her fingers in the dirt to remove it from the landscape and back into her possession.