It takes Xas a moment to look up from the shrub, and when he does it takes him several more moments to answer. He's busy staring - at her hair, a little, and for a second at her wholly unseasonal outfit, but mostly at her wings. They look like insect wings. He doesn't know how she would reasonably be able to fly with them. Probably poorly, if at all. It's a thought more hopeful than analytical.

"I'm going to pot it," he eventually says, tone distant. He looks back down at the plant, then tilts his head at her. Ridiculous wings aside, she looks out place and potentially cold. "What are you doing?"