"You think he's realized it yet?" The mature voice of a middle-aged man filled the air, almost in the form of a chuckle.
It belonged to Fitz, who was currently seated on the ruined earth. If he was to say, his buttocks itched him a little, and he was a little sore, but beggers couldn't be choosers.
As for the one he was talking to…
"WEEEEEELLL… I DON'T KNOWWWWW…" The Whispering Treant growled.
The unusually massive creature was currently seated beside Fitz, and they both seemed to be in too much of a friendly dialogue for parties meant to be enemies.
The Treant was meant to be trying to kill Fitz, while the latter was meant to be running for his dear life.
No… Fitz was meant to be dead by now.
"I guess it's about time now. It's been uneventful for a while, but he should have found the room, and gotten the goods."
"INNNDEEEEED…" The Whispering Treant nodded slowly.
