"You weren't?" Anya attempts to play it coy, brushing her fingers along the needles almost affectionately. She doesn't want a stately tree. If she did, she would go admire the one outside of the city hall, too large, and too straight and too gaudy. She wants a tree that feels right. In her case that means one that has grander ambitions, but is a bit uncertain about how it will work or the rightness of it,

Carefully she walks in a deliberate circle around the tree, admiring it from multiple angles. There is a pretty sizable bald spot that she'll just turn toward the wall, but nothing horrible. It's sweet, almost earnest. Coming around the other side of the tree, she looks up at him expectantly.

"I've thought it was ours for quite some time now. I mean, it isn't practical for you to have to stay so far away. It's almost wasteful really, when it could be useful to someone else and you fit so well with me by the sea." Pausing, Anya takes a deep breath. "Don't you like the idea of it being ours?"