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Matasoga took up a pen and wrote his order on a sheet provided so that they would be delivered to his address. He put some coin on the table and said, "I think I'd best take this one with me now."
With it in hand he turned to leave, believing that Leiko would be to ecstatic to wait for it's delivery. He stopped, made a few gestures, muttered a few words, and held his ground for about three seconds. He then tucked Leiko into his coat with one hand, still holding the tree in the other and walked up the hill with considerably more speed. clearing a distance of 150 feet in six seconds. He kept this pace all the way to the door, looking to Leiko to see her reaction as they stepped inside, hoping that she wasn't so enthralled by the tree that his spell and enchanted speed had escaped her notice, altogether.

In the past, Matasoga would have struck a pose both arrogant and theatrical before declaring his arcane talents, but that almost felt to him a different person, living a different life.
Instead, he said with a small smile, "As a sorcerer, I have access to a small pool of spells, none of them terribly powerful, due to the diverse nature of my training... That was one of them."
"I thought it might spare you some time in the cold, and I have the feeling that I won't be fighting for my life, so I consider it a spell well-used," he concluded.

"It'll take me more than the casting of a low-level spell. It seems like I never really amass any significant power unless I'm out adventuring," he said.
"For a long time I've felt like my place was here, but..." his voice trailed off as he allowed himself to sink into one of the couches. "Whether it is or not, I just don't have the heart for it right now."
"Adventuring is incredibly taxing on the heart, mind, body and spirit. Arcane magic users often have the worst go of it of the lot. That's why you hear so many stories of evil wizards or mad sorcerers and so few about other types, like fighters or barbarians... Unless, of course, they've been somehow ensorceled by an evil wizard of mad sorcerer," he added, with a smile that was exceptionally wry.
"I guess what I'm saying is that the flesh is willing, but the spirit..." and that was all he said, even his wry smile fading as he trailed off.

"I like it... I love living here, it's just... I guess there are some memories that I'll never leave behind." His voice grew quiet as he said "Some that aren't easy to reconcile myself with."
He didn't want to involve others in the guild in matters such as this. He leaned an elbow on his leg, quite near her and his chin on his palm. He turned his eye to look at her as he continued.
"Couldn't choose where you wanted to go, huh?" he asked, again rhetorically. "If I opened the door and told you that you could leave and have your freedom and that I wouldn't pursue you and the only other choice was to stay here and remain a slave for the rest of your life, which would you choose?"
The question remained of how she outsmarted these others. It seemed like it would be a good story and one that she wanted to tell, but it would have to wait. He needed to know the answer to this question, because if she did want to go, he just might let her.
He wondered what it would be like to handle another abandonment. Sure, he'd just met this little creature. It would be nothing like the last. Still, he wondered how he'd take it.

All that the word 'Slave' really means is that you work without any form of monetary compensation, in other words you aren't paid... Then again, it usually implies that you aren't given gifts, either, but here we are..." Matasoga said, eying the cherry tree.
"Moreover, it does mean that you belong to me, that I can do with you as I like, with no chance of recourse or punishment. Of course some would use that as an excuse to abuse or kill you," he said, thinking of the vampires he'd considered bringing home for the sole purpose of granting them the sense of touch and torturing them until the sun rose.
"But I'd never do that," to you, he added silently. She would profit nothing from knowing the stories of his youth. The idea of being charmed by a fair, flaxen-haired beauty (or at least the illusion thereof) that would later come near to destroying him (either through intent or carelessness) seemed to be a recurring theme in his life. Clearly, the memories profited him nothing either, as he had utterly failed to learn from them.
Matasoga turned his head to the window. He assumed that Leiko would most likely be tired. "Your people sleep, do they not?" he asked.
((Madame Vocaloid, we'll be getting to you, soon.))

"Most of them sleep a bit more than I, but yes, we do, though I have not been doing a very good job of it, lately, and I tend to do more or it during the day than night," he said. "Anyway, would you like this tree in your room? There may not be much natural light there, so we can find a different place, if you like."
((As I see it, the tree is only a little taller than Leiko, not including the roots/pot.))

He lead her up the stairs, taking up the twine once again, in one hand and the pot of the tree with the other. He mostly disregarded her stern look, somewhat lost in the memory of how we spend most of his nights as he took her to the elevator again. After getting out on the third floor he lead her to her section of room which would be relatively small for a human, but in either of her forms it would be extravagantly large, with plenty of room for her trees.