[Seasonal Event] feel like whistling

Emmett's recovery had been stumbling and unsure, beginning and stopping several times and seemingly without logic; sometimes he could walk about fine for hours and sometimes he would be bedbound all day with a terrible nausea if he dared to stand up. It was frustrating not knowing how well he really was, not being able to return to the farm to clean up because he didn't want to be stranded if he had a bad day. Not that he really wanted to clean up what would be left behind after what had happened. At least the monsters would have taken the bodies, he supposed. He was well enough on this particular day to sit up at a table in the bar and sip at a drink as he tried to work out a new layout for the farm that would allow him to grow at least enough crops to keep the place going but also be manageable for one person (two, if he could bear to ask Phoebe to help). Speaking of crops...he glanced up to see a...walking gourd? Enter, with a young woman. They immediately began to busy themselves tidying up and ever the helper, Emmett felt instant obligation to help. He stood up, wobbled a little but stayed upright. "Hey, y'lookin' for some help?" Ok, Here It Goes