“I can,” Elias said sincerely, letting his eye linger over the gardens again. Once she had finished her ministrations, he flexed his arms and stretched his shoulder back to test it, rather grateful that the scrapes were all sealed up before he inevitably got back to the workshop, immediately forgot about them, and got polish stinging on his skin.

He felt a great deal improved though, and the tonic must have been working - or else the pause to get his breath back - because he stood up slowly and didn’t feel dizzy at all. “Good eye,” he remarked, easily delighted at her knowledge, though he supposed it should not come as that much a surprise. “Oh, not too heavy,” Elias assured - it was not the most dense wood he’d ever used, and nothing the levitation charms couldn’t counteract, usually - “and it was a joy to work with,” the straight grain! so much easier-going than oak! “but it’s - almost a little too flexible, in the air. I think it’s style over substance for this one, after all,” he said, scooping up the recovered broom and setting it idly over his shoulder, for the walk back. “I suspect it’ll need even more repairing than me,” he added with a grin, shooting her another grateful look for all she had done for him.

He reached out his free hand to help her up from where she was sitting, grin growing a little broader. “Now, what should I know about planting pumpkins?”

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