<strong>* HALLWAY *</strong><br/><br/>Fern's assault on the enclosure barrier proves to be no assault at all.  Her first touch of a ready fist finds the portal to be as immaterial as it seems.  Her reach extends through where the solid wall should be, finding no resistance but her own surprise.  For all she can see - can feel - her hands are moving in the space of the enclosure.<br/><br/><br/><strong>* ENCLOSURE * </strong><br/><br/>Arrayed in sentinel, the griffon is occupied with his own assault - a wary challenge to all the quarters of the enclosure, slashes of his avian head demanding their emptiness present a threat to his territory or remain in cringing silence.  The latter occurs.  The only disturbance in the enclosure is the faint rustle of ivory wings and the restive shift of his bronze pelt.  Claws flex, nakedly lethal, through the padded grass.  The grass - and the lazy humidity, the crystalline water, the lush and silent chime of jade leaves all about - offer no resistance.<br/><br/>Miaren discovers the fruit to be fleshy and warm.  Its rind is more membranous than stiff.  While pocked with the suggestion of being porous, its blood hue is more suggestive of a mammalian thing.  All the same, it exudes the faintest hint of a nectarine scent, swollen with nutritive citrus.