Tycondrius took a deep breath through his nostrils. Admittedly, a rhyming guardian was... not unexpected. He could at very least be thankful the fellow hadn't an out-of-tune flute or harp to further worsen his vocal performance.
"Ey," Krysaos shot his hand out-- immediately silencing the crew, "Back off. Musical expression ain't a crime."
"OooOh, Tychon," Elle took hold of his hand. "Can we see a show when we get back to Whitehearth? A musical, maybe?"
Tycon gave his lover a reluctant smile, "If you wish."
Coraline stepped forward to address the crew, "So obviously... there's thirteen paths that we can choose from. One... or more of them should lead us deeper in the forest to the Tree God..."
"Then fate shall decide for us," The Elven Ancient walked forward, standing tall. "Dear friends, allow me to be the first."
Krysaos narrowed his eyes, looking King up and down... "Yeah, go ahead. We'll see you on the other side."