Ashton was waiting at the entrance to the House of Music which, conviniently, only made itself visible to those possessing a Ruling Right. Even then, it appeared as a set of freestanding double doors. There was the faint sound of harps on the breeze, but only audible to the point where it could be heard by straining one's ears.<br/><br/>As he waited, and the others approached, a pair of silent green tendrils began to work their way gently around his ankles, waiting for the precise moment to ensnare.