Somebody's got to do the communing around here and it's sure as hell not Myr.

Oh, he's certainly trying to give this forest the grateful appreciation all the Maker's creations deserve, but at his heart he's a sheltered citified Circle mage and hasn't an idea in his head how to properly take in all this...nature stuff. Not when it's growing in wild natural abundance with trees and shrubs and flowers and all piled up on top of each other in riotous profusion; it demands a different kind of reverence than the tame, orderly rows of a kitchen garden or herb patch or orchard.

One thing he can appreciate, though, is the fruit. There's surely enough of it that no one will notice if he relieves this cherry plum he's stumbled into of a few of its bite-sized fruits--he can certainly justify it on research grounds if they were grown by magic, after all, and-- He stops in the midst of feeling his way up one of the plum's branches at a sound from nearby. That...didn't sound like a bird. More like something a humanoid throat would make.

"Hello?" he asks, turning his head this way and that as he tries to fix on the origin of the noise.