What did you do to my Cottage?

As we stepped into the clearing, Ishmael's hands, which had been on my waist pulling me back towards him, loosened their hold. I would have felt triumphant and disappointed but I was too surprised at what I saw in front of us to feel anything but alarm.

Our cottage, the one we worked so hard to clear out, was a mess of wood again. To be clear, this time it was a mess of living wood, trees rather. Full grown trees had sprouted from around the cottage on all sides. The trees' branches even made a pitched roof of sorts.

"What did you do?" Ishmael asked. His voice shaking with awe.

I blinked, "I didn't do this."

"I did." A male I vaguely recognized raced out of the cottage. I knew I'd seen him before, I just couldn't remember where.

The male quickly walked over to stand in front of me. He clasped his hands together in a graceful, but unusual bow. His bright blue eyes shone with warmth as he straightened and smiled.