<span style="color: #408000">Levainlain watched Lilu's utterance curiously, and his eyes followed him when he walked off, but he seemed to have a purpose, and so the elf decided not to worry and instead called the fairy lore-keeper to his side. "Mulberry, would you be of immense assistance to me? I must lead Jeremi to a bed and tend to the others. Do you care to follow Lilu--the fellow walking off there--and direct him back when he is finished with his business?" The elf lightly touched the fairy's delicate shoulder, not wanting to hinder his suspension in the air, and nodded to him, his face softening into a look of nervousness and confusion. Though he knew him not, he trusted the fairy for an indescribable reason, and somehow knew that he would understand the importance of the task to Levainlain. <br/><br/>Hoping that he would honour his request, he nodded to the fairy and turned, trotting quickly after Jeremi, greatly surprised by his strength. "This way," he directed, opening the door to his home. It was more spacious in appearance on the inside than on the outside, featuring a staircase which curved with the wall of the tree--and was indeed comprised of it--which led to upper floors, each of which sported a round design with multiple doors, each leading to a separate room. There were small hatches and doors hidden and in plain sight in many locations throughout the house--it was planned to be efficient and effective, and that it was. The design of the kitchen was small and quaint, lending to the suggestion that there was only one permanent resident of the space. A kettle lay on a wood-burning stovetop, which burnt only fallen branches which he had collected. This was yet another source of Levainlain's physical and social distance from the other elves, seeing as they did not believe in burning fire with anything but pure magic.<br/><br/>"The price one pays for being practical," he mumbled quietly under his breath. He led them through a living space which resembled more closely a library, though in his mind it did not compare to the display on the top floor of his home, which housed more books than most other's in the forest, save those few who collected them for occupation or obsession. There was mixed seating around a small hearth which was not so much present to heat the tree home as it was to add to the aesthetics of the home--a gift from human architecture, he viewed it. Past the living space there were two doors which stood down a truncated hallway. Those who observed the house from the exterior may have guessed by the change in materials that this part of the house was built into the boulders beside the tree. The far door--his bed chambre--was locked and guarded with charms so as to keep his privacy as private as could be. The other, while it housed a lock, was not, and he pushed it open, gesturing to the bed in the spacious guest room. It was not one in which his visitors customarily would stay, but it was more appropriate for emergency situations like the present one when demanding an injured individual and the man carrying him to go upstairs would be inappropriate.<br/><br/>He left the doctor and the others and walked briskly to the dining area, ensuring that it was cleared of any papers or small projects he might have laid out, and then to the kitchen, where he set a small log to fire with the snap of his fingers and laid the kettle over it. He briefly pondered Lilu's utterance again, and wondered if that was what he had intended to teach him. He cleared his mind and simplified the situation to it while preparing the warm cider, setting six dainty ceramic mugs onto the dining table in a cluster. </span>