X forcibly shoves the twig into Scorpius' hand, keeping her own curled around it just in case he decides to throw it away.

The tree seems very persuasive.

Then she reaches out to take a second twig from Bruce. This one is for her.

And, it would seem, the twigs get handed out just in time.

The hovering flock of leaves dives toward the crowd of interlopers, though they pull up quickly enough to flutter through illusory branches.

The really unnerving thing?

The leaves all have tiny, sharp white teeth. And the illusory leaves will only fool them for so long.

"We should go," X offers, quick and calm and quiet.

"Now."