‘Have you thought, even for a moment, that perhaps I am not the sort who is naturally predisposed towards what you would consider kind acts? Have you not thought that there might be a reason that I choose – yes choose, you can ignore those silly rumours that have no doubt filled your head about my leaving the City  - to live out here because I don’t like others?’ The words hung in the air – every bit as loud as those that had been spoken previously, seeming to echo around her as if for a moment she was standing within an invisible grotto of sorts that was amplifying and distorting the sound. There was yet another no doubt uncomfortable measure of silence – while taken at word value alone it seemed as if the voice was asking her a question, the way it was spoken did not, and it was some time before any other sound was made. Even the gargoyles it seemed had returned to their quiet rest – although any time she cared to take her eyes from them, upon returning her gaze to them once more she would find that their pose had changed, even if it was a little.<br/><br/>The very next noise to be heard, a minute if that later, was of the impressively wrought gates swinging inwards – the very faintest of metallic grinds accompanying the opening as they swung wide to show off the rather exotic looking inner grounds. The majority of the trees were nothing that couldn’t have been found in the forest, but each and every one stood taller, thicker and much more well nourished than any of its cousins outside the grounds. At their feet a vast array of flowers grew – some she would recognise, some she wouldn’t, some planted and allowed to grow rather haphazardly, others planted in perfect little rows  and adorned with tiny little labels that presumably indicated what species of plant they were.<br/><br/>‘Some of the plants you see before you grow, to the best of my knowledge which is indeed considerable, no-where else upon the face of this world anymore’ said a voice accompanied by a crunch, crunch, crunching that came ever closer. A keen eye might detect a slight shifting in the gravel that rested either side of the stone pathway that wound like a snake into the depths of the trees – a moment later the Archmage Kos himself appearing out of thin air with no fanfare what so ever. He was a tall man – a shade over 6 feet in height, slender of build with angular features that while they did not make him look unattractive, gave something of a hawkish impression to his visage, something added to by the sharp clear blue eyes that seemed to pierce her as he looked at her whilst extending his right hand towards her. ‘Well, don’t waste all my time – the letter girl’ he prompted.