"Then let's dance, little robin," Nida smiles. He plants his staff at the bottom of a tree. Then he backs up, takes a few running steps and uses that to push off of the tree to jump up and grab a sturdy branch. He moves as easily up the tree as any caped crusader would over an urban environment, up and up in the tree with confident ease until he was rather sturdily based near the top.

"Fly little one."

He settles himself on a branch, legs gripping around it for sturdiness, and he smiles. This will be fun.