no subject

( there's the heavy sound of a pot clanking onto the work table, as aerith lifts it from the back shelf and thumps it down onto the surface--it's large enough to have to have been carried with both hands, at least, and to her dismay, it leaves the front of her dress caked in dust and dirt. no matter, at least now for now: she nods to the stranger, gesturing towards the pot with an open palm. )

There's dirt in it...! ( she instructs, shouting over the plant's wailing--but just in case, she's also stepping sidelong to investigate the bags of soil, here, looking for something that might cover up the top.

--then, of course, she spares her gaze sidelong, and scolds at the stranger, playfully: )

I said be gentle! Maybe you should sing to it after all!