The tortle leaves the comfort of the tavern with little complaint, anxious to be on his way and off seeing the expanses of what this world has to offer. While the elf strides forth in a businesslike fashion, Moss' own footsteps are slightly more hazy, the large tortle seeming to take a childlike glee from the surroundings they find themselves in. Having never spent any length of time in a dwarf settlement, his dark eyes take in the various businesses with interest, even as the rest of the party rushes on. It would seem that hurry is not among the druid's skill set. Soon enough though, they find themselves before the great oak, and the tortle watches with transparent interest as the elf summons a portal from within the large plant, steps through it.<br/><br/>A druid of knowledge but not yet experience, he is familiar with the spell, and teleports through the tree with an audible exultation of glee, apparently quite happy to experience such an intimate moment with a plant. When they arrive at the other side he takes a moment after the tree has knit itself back together to give it a long lingering hug, a docile smile etched on his beak. The moment lingers for perhaps a moment longer than it would need to, before he turns to the elf and offers him a hug as well, even as his demeanor seems at least a bit more serious. It is clear that now is the time for action, and not hugs.<br/><br/>"That was really quite enjoyable. That is the closest I think I have ever come to that level of intimacy with a tree before. What an experience. Its euphoric. Imagine what it would be like to do that each and every day. Oh what amazing fun I could have. In any case, I suppose there is business to discuss. You, rude elf, why did we need to teleport to this location? I thought your vineyard was on the island proper."<br/><br/>As he speaks, the tortle reaches to his side, extracting a small wooden pipe, and begins to stuff it with strongly scented pipeweed. The motion is second nature to him, with the placid air of one who has undertaken this method many many times in the past. When the pipe is properly packed, he lights it with the tip of a finger, and begins to puff from the noxious smelling concoction, seeming to visibly relax even beyond his normally cool disposition as the white smoke fills his lungs.<br/><br/><strong>PC: Moss uses Druidcraft to light his choof :)</strong>