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[Sonya raises her eyebrows at the position, but keeps silent.

Prayer. Sure, why not? Not any more out there than singing to plants to calm them down, really.

But... it works. In a sense. They don't part for the masses, of course it's not that easy, but they definitely seem more... languid, than before.

Sonya gives a frond an experimental singe, counting the seconds it takes to repair itself, and seemingly is pleased with the result.]

I suppose I'll forge boldly ahead and see if I can open it from the inside.

[Now for a much larger ball of fire, one that aims to cut a path through the plants with minimum effort.]

See you soon, little one.

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