She shrugs, not minding the request at all. "All right. Um..."

Well, hopefully he doesn't know what Abyssal sounds like since she doesn't know how to cast in other languages. She speaks a short phrase in the harsh, unearthly tongue and makes a simple gesture with her hand, ending in turning her palm upward. Above, an image shimmers into view of ancient black-trunked willow trees, branches gnarled and twisted as they hang full of pink flowers over a silver shimmering river. Another few words as she brushes the iron rose at her chest with her free hand, and a chill fills the air along with the soft sound of running water.

"How's that?"