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The Forest God stared down at Myers - and that was probably bad, Hellboy thought, even if it was mostly just strange, because with everyone else (and everything else, too), the thing had just screamed and attacked.
"Um," Myers said.
There was a - a branch or something curled around his right arm, Hellboy saw. It didn't move quickly, and it didn't seem like the beginning of a sneak attack.
On the other hand: "Back off, tree: he's mine."
And that was how Hellboy ended up with an ass full of splinters, and Myers with a new pet.
Nuada, as it turned out, was pretty much the same kind of psycho as everyone else who spent their time working on, you know, planning to wipe out the human race.
Also, apparently, he wanted his tree back, which was just bad luck for him, wasn't it? Because Hellboy might not agree with Myers' decision to keep the stupid thing around but he'd defend his right to do so to the death, so that was that.
"You cannot possibly understand its needs," Nuada told John, after a nice round of insults all around.
"I water it every day?" Myers said. "And I use fertilizer. Compost."
Nuada glowered at him. "I must think on this."
Apparently, taking care of trees was Serious Business. Who'd have guessed?
"No way," Hellboy said.
"If you will permit me entry only over your dead body, I am sure that can be arranged," Nuada said, all smug and annoying.
"Big talk."
Which was when the suits arrived, of course. Called him 'Mr. Nuada' and everything - like he was as good as human.
Nobody'd ever called Hellboy 'Mr. Hellboy'. (He'd have laughed them out of the building if they had, but that wasn't the point.)
"Look," Hellboy said. "Myers, pal. He's bad news."
Myers blushed. Not good.
No reason for it, either, given the subject, unless ... "Is that a hickey?"