[ they've gathered here, crouched down by the first spot of dirt they could find at the edge of the festival. four grown men/ancient supernatural beings burying a little seed in the ground, possibly arguing over the appropriate depth and soil requirement (or maybe it was just cas having opinions).
they huddle around it, eyes on the dirt mound, waiting for a likely very short conversation with a plant that doesn't seem interested in sprouting. cas looks up to the bard with a nod. ]
talking to the seed; cas, dean, jaskier and geralt
they huddle around it, eyes on the dirt mound, waiting for a likely very short conversation with a plant that doesn't seem interested in sprouting. cas looks up to the bard with a nod. ]
Whenever you're ready, Jaskier.