As if fading into existance, the mottled form of Sinthorn reappears to the group at the base of the tree,  although his skin still perfectly changes colors to the environment around him.   He tilts his head, considering the turtle,  then sighs softly as he murmurs.  "There are better times for such things...not to mention safer."   He looks up at the others, and murmurs.  "I can retrieve them if you do not wish to wait on their dalliance."<br/><br/>----------------<br/>[knowledge arcana, 6+6=12....trained even...barely)