"Umm... Not quite, Lisra." The dryad leans back against her trunk, flesh binding almost imperceptibly to the bark. "You see... um..."<br/><br/>After a few moments of awkward silence- in which the nymph looks anxiously at the sky at least twice. It's like she's nervous about you... and about something else entirely. Something that you can't see, but she can.<br/><br/>"I... well. Lisra, that tree is not for me." She finally gives in and just sort of blurts it out, stepping closer to wrap long, soft fingers around your wrist. "That's... well. When my kind has offspring, their seed-tree sprouts quickly, so that when the baby is born it is big enough to bond with..."