(( Normally, something like this would have phased the Treant. If anything, he told himself that he didn't need to care about what others thought. Or said. Or judged him about. All he wanted was to return to his own life. His old ways. To go back to the way that Nature intended for him to be, and leave it at that. And yet... when that summoner-- no more than a novice at that, had confronted the Treant with what he did... it made him think.

"You do nothing more than throw children into the frontlines of war. Do you realize that?"

Maokai stared at the sapling that was currently perched on his shoulder. The innocent little thing was playing with a small flower that it had picked, twirling it and watching as a pattern of yellows and whites swirled before it. But that was the key word: innocent. It didn't know much more than what little life it had experienced up to this point. And that innocence-- was it just a ruse? After all, the little sapling turned from innocent child to explosive kamikaze bomber in an instant on the Fields of Justice. All it took was one thought from the treant, and that naivete would be thrown aside, and their only goal was to latch onto the closest enemy, and explode in a brilliant array of magic, roots, and leaves.

Still, it peturbed him. Was it right to throw such young life away? After all, the saplings were made from the blood of a child.

Well, the image of a child. Did that even make them real?

The sapling turned to look up at the Treant, and then let out a giddy sound, planting the flower in one of the Treant's twisted boughs. He grunted. To worry about something as unimportant as vanity... and yet it made something within the old branches swell. It was like the sapling could read his mind-- even though both lives were linked, they were still individual.

And yet, he never had a sapling turn on him before. He never had one refuse the command. They were, at least up to this point, not only obedient, but willing.

"That doesn't make it right." He could hear the summoner say in his mind. A growl shook through his bark, and the sapling on his shoulder trembled. He could sense the sudden fear and uneasiness from it, reaching up and stroking it to calm it down. Agitated saplings were as dangerous as ones on the Fields, and prone to sudden explosions.

It was much like a child. An agitated child would have mood swings, and could potentially lash out at those nearest to them. It wasn't like they knew any better.

He stared at the sapling again. The fact that he was comparing subservient, unnatural life to something that happened every day bothered him. Could that possibly mean that he was beginning to accept this existence as...

No. He couldn't. His resolve grew. Just like him, the saplings were nothing more than an after-effect of what happened when magics tainted life it should have left alone.

And yet, as the tree lumbered on through the Treeline, he brought the sapling down from his shoulder into the crook of his elbow, and cradled it almost protectively.

After all, if he was responsible for throwing their lives away, he could at least take responsibility for protecting them until their time came. ))

((Bump n.n))

Wukong crept behind Maokai as quietly as he could, hoping the tree did not hear him advancing. After all, most trees bore fruit, and if Maokai were one of those trees... Wukong had to know what kind it would be.

Xerath reluctantly floats into Maokai's pressence.

"You there, tree! I have overheard of your 'situation' and I have come up with a solution that you should really take into account. I believe if I was aloud to simple absorb the magics that brought you alive, you could return back to the forest as you were before."

He might not have heard the simian, but he could tell. Disregarding the fact that his sapling sat on his shoulder giving a secondary, lazy vigilance, the leaves and grass themselves told him. He turned around, not really expecting much from the situation, and grumbled.

"What is it that you want, Wukong?" He asked. So long as he had vision on the monkey, of course. He knew much about the Wuju fighter's tricks from the Fields, and knew better than to believe only what his eyes saw.

To be fair, Xerath's presence would have normally perturbed the Treant. However, the offer was surely too good to pass up.

"Continue." The Treant spoke. "I have a feeling deep inside my roots that says such a "cure" could not be so simple, but you have my attention."

"Yes, a such a process could prove to be more complex than originally stated, but I believe there may be a way to siphon the energy used to bring you to your current state. Of course, to prepare such a process, I would require several days, and there may be slight side effects as a result."

Maokai didn't seem too impressed. For someone who claimed to be a source of near-infinite magical power, he didn't seem to really understand what he was doing. Maybe. "What kind of side effects are we speaking of, Ascendant?" The Treant asked. "As much as I want to return to my original state, I want to return to the original state. Without change or side effect."

Xerath shakes his head.

"Nothing to harsh, you see. There is an immense power source around you and the Forest. As such, if one was to, let's say, take away this power, you would simply return back to your state."

Xerath looks down.

"However, I must inform you there is a slight chance that removing the magics could in turn destroy your mortal form, especially after it's been attuned to magic for so long."

Hey, Maokai! You're a tree, right? Wukong rushed up to Maokai and poked him in the arm, examining him as though to confirm this fact. I was just wondering.... are you the kind of tree that grows fruit?

The entirety of the Treant seems to shake and groan with that. "As I said, while I desperately want to return to my original state of being naught more than a simple tree, I don't want side effects. Ceasing to exist is a rather... unwelcomed side effect."

He stares blankly at the Ascendant.

"Perhaps if you continue to refine your... methods, and can nullify said chance, then I might consider it. For now, the answer is no."

He expected as much. He turns to face the monkey, and then reaches inside the mouth of the face on his left arm. With a grunt, he pulls out what looks like a big acorn. "Oak trees don't produce fruit. Not in the sense you're probably thinking of." He says, offering the acorn to the monkey.

Xerath shakes his head in disappointment.

"Nothing if wrong with my 'methods', it is just the nature of magic to be chaotic.

Shame really. The power that controls your land could have been enough to heightened me to near impossible heights. But if that is your wish, I shale oblige, until the power from these Nexuses are drained of course."