Yesterday had been [i]exhausting[/i]. Among the tons of Mytherian plants to pick from, it turned out Adam picked one of the more difficult ones to create. Sure, there had been a few interesting ones that might have been easier, such as the hauntingly nicknamed “sailor's scourge,” but the one he had chosen was more concerning for the enemy…if learning about it didn't kill him first, that is.


This morning, when he had learned from James that all Druids were to go to Golden Tree Park, the fisherman had wondered why. Listening to Michael Fern explain what was to be done, and seeing all the people there, led to an understanding: this would be another tiring day, only somewhat differently so. The effort looked like a sort of medieval and magical assembly line, ranging from people moving acorns in to people moving lumber out. It was impressive, really.


Sure, Adam could have just grown a few trees and left. It wasn't like he didn't have a reason. This new plant was tough to learn, and the red-eyed man knew he needed more practice. But that was not how he did things. The effort to defend Valheim needed all the help it could get, so Adam found an unoccupied spot and began casting.


After creating a dozen or so oak trees, the Druid felt something surprising: boredom. [i]“How is creating living matter from nothing dull?”[/i] and [i]“am I starting to take my powers for granted?”[/i] were two questions that ran through his mind. Perhaps the challenge from yesterday gave him a desire to expand his Druid abilities and try new things - certainly a better take than “this is simply repetitive,” which made him feel lousy about himself. 


In the spirit of the former, Adam decided to try growing multiple trees at once. He had made four roots in an earlier battle, so he started there. It became simple after a time, so he branched out to six. And eventually eight. Each one was tougher than the last, but still doable.


Ten was his limit, for now. One for each finger. Perhaps it was being in a situation where he didn't have to focus on anything else besides casting that let the red-eyed man do that much, he thought. Whatever it was, he allowed himself to simply focus on the magic. It was a feeling almost reminiscent of his time on Kragstone Peak, and the meditative nature of the casting made the Druid feel like he was casting more proficiently than usual.


This state of mind kept Adam from realizing something fairly obvious until he was done casting; towards the end, someone had been watching him.