Ah, there she is. Trevor lets his song fade out as he peers down at Sypha, her blue cloak and blond hair distinctive amongst the forest colors. Despite his hangover, he smiles broadly at her, and if she can't see it it's audible in his voice.

"A dryad? Those shy creatures don't suit me at all. Perhaps I'm a woodland siren! I've lured you to your doom with my voice." He shifts a little to see her better, nearly losing his balance in the process and tumbling down onto her, which would be a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy.

"Whoop. Let's not do that. Have you brought a rope?"