"Sorry I'm late!" Claudius calls, feeling every bit as clumsy and stupid as he looks rushing through the undergrowth. He canters after Casimira and Matilda, wondering what - if anything - they might have found. He is delighted to see the former queen tugging at an orchid and amused at the sight of a vaguely purple-furred capybara. For a brief moment, his chest is so full of hope it hurts - only to be quickly deflated by the weight of such momentous hope.
In the heart of these few creatures - amongst the calls of tropical birds and the slow shuffle of hot-blooded mammals - stands a glorious, robust tree almost exactly like one Claudius used to nap beneath. He blinks at it, speechless; then he casts a look both apprehensive and delighted in Casimira's direction. He's blinking in shock as he hurries closer, as the branches roughly brush his skin. An idea strikes him and he grins, a look so boyish it transforms his entire face. With a jerk of his head, Claudius showers little plumes of cotton all over himself. Soft clouds tangle into his flowers, his mane, the vines wrapping around his horn.
Transported, the man is a boy again, all soft flesh and wide eyes. He is napping beneath this tree. He is waking up with a sneeze. He is laughing.
"Think that'll do it?" he calls to Casimira, barely blinking out of his daze.
@Matilda @Casimira