<span style="color: #408000">Levainlain had been distraught. No one had ever invaded the sanctity of his bed chambre before without his permission. One Powland had run by him with his things, he stood motionless and blank-faced. This had been the one place in which he had felt relatively safe, and now he felt exposed and wounded. Finally recovering himself, he had turned and drifted calmly down the series of hallways which led back to his defiled resting space. Entering it and closing the door behind him, he had placed his hand over where the lock had been until he heard a metallic thud on the other side of it and removed his hand to reveal that where the lock had just been now consisted of living wood. And with that, he had begun the work of destroying the port by growing over it. When finished, he had done the same with all but one and turned to his mossy bed. He wondered briefly if the others had noticed the disappearance of the second door at the end of the hallway but doubted it, seeing as they were likely in the living area still. He lay back for a moment and pondered what he should do with his present situation. A single blaring thought came to his mind, and he jumped up suddenly. He moved items aside here and there until he came to where he had left the map which he had confiscated from Powland. He had planned on returning his satchel to him, but he now felt further discomforted by the creature and decided that he could not be trusted with the object, and thus, with a snap of his delicate fingers, he dropped the map and watched it burn to cinder and ground it into the floor with his boot. <br/><br/>Slightly comforted by this action, he began the process of rearranging the room until it was in its original pristine condition, washed his face in a large bowl of water on a table, and exited the room. Minutes later, he descended the stairway which trailed down several floors through the tree and stood  at the highest stair on the ground level, observing the situation before him. His eyes immediately jumped to Lilu, and he smiled ever-so-slightly knowing that he had returned safely. Then, to his surprise, he noted that another guest had joined them--a small one with glistening scales. He noted Mulberry and then Powland as he raced out of the room from which the elf could hear the voices of Jeremi and Stacy and called on the wyrmling to join him in his quest doing he knew not what, though he suspected that it had something to do with the scream which he had heard outside of the house. He waited for Powland to exit the house before descending completely and walked immediately to the bookshelves, beginning to replace the disheveled literature. When he arrived at the small wooden village, he sighed slightly and slowly diminished it to nothing, exhausted already from the extensive work which he had just done on his chambre. He ignored the others, not wishing to seem rude but fully intending to reorganise the household before socialising, which he proceeded to due, moving past them to rearrange items and furniture as needed until all was as it should be. Still refraining from interpersonal contact, he retreated to a small chair in the corner by the fire and slumped into it, staring into the empty hearth.</span>