Coming up on a year in this world, Wilhelm has seen a lot of weird shit. Somehow, none of it prepares him for the would-be mundane sight of Lucifer knelt beside a flowerbed, purging it of weeds. Would be mundane, if it were almost anyone else. He knows better than most that the devil has a few soft spots, but he never would have guessed a green thumb was one of them.

Or maybe he's up to something. (These days, the idea does not slink in on suspicion, but drifts in on curiosity.) With a grin tugging at his lips, he shuffles closer.

"Pick up a new hobby?"