Surprised, heart beating faster at the sight of the treant, Chrrou briefly looks around at the rest of the group. Dangerous... well, it<span style="font-style: italic">might</span>be. But as recently as he said that it was important to be suspicious of even the once-friendly, somehow, for him, the same logic doesn't seem to hold here. A living tree, in the midst of a land swift becoming unable to sustain even the conifers... In his mind, the treant is less likely a potential enemy or spy than the possible lone survivor of the carnage that decimated the settlement.<br/><br/>...but he doubts the sight of a full group of adventurers marching toward its position would be anything but unhelpful. "Just the trees," the mousefolk sighs to Rihyan, gesturing toward the decimated stumps amid the ruins. "So much destroyed..." Reflexively drawing his clothing tighter about himself despite his newfound comfort in the cold, as discreetly as he can the druid begins to trudge through the snow, pausing here and there to gaze at the wreckage but gradually bringing himself closer to speaking-distance with the hiding treant. Heshaar follows, some score of feet behind.