[William sits forward slightly as the flower begins to grow. He probably should be done feeling surprised by any of this by now, but this is not like the magic that he's watched the wizards work. It turns in a different universe to what he wields.]

Ain't terms scientists usually use, but beautiful works all right for me today. [His gaze lingers on the rose. He'd rather like to do some analyses, but that'd be rude-- or something.] Could you start a garden, down with the herbs and the farm crop? With that-- what you can do. [He'd been thinking in terms of flesh and blood, which is his wont; but this, too, is important.]