the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun
Not having added doing his hair to his meagre list of skills just yet, Amhran's messy locks remain about his shoulders, through he brushes them back from his face as he follows Deimos further into the hotsprings, shifting the bag he holds to his other hand. "That looks like as good an area as any," he confirms with a nod, wandering in the Sword's wake until they reach the secluded spot that might make a good nursery for his new magic.
"I do not think so, but I have brought some from the greenhouse just in case," he says, kneeling down and removing a package of said soil from the bag, as well as a few plant pots. (Just in case he sees a specimen worth taking home, you understand). The warm stone seems rather unforgiving for something as pure as Rae's Lily to grow, but Amhran easily finds a fissure large enough to begin, carefully packing it with soil.
"I learned a game with plant pots recently," he says conversationally.
"I do not think so, but I have brought some from the greenhouse just in case," he says, kneeling down and removing a package of said soil from the bag, as well as a few plant pots. (Just in case he sees a specimen worth taking home, you understand). The warm stone seems rather unforgiving for something as pure as Rae's Lily to grow, but Amhran easily finds a fissure large enough to begin, carefully packing it with soil.
"I learned a game with plant pots recently," he says conversationally.
