I wonder if there are any gardeners among us. Clara tells me that its been raining since she arrived a month ago, but surely there must be something that would grow out here.

[Jack lingers in the doorway, just under the shield that keeps the falling rain away.]

Although what, I'm not sure. I've heard mention doors lock and don't open for a few weeks. Seems a shame to plant something no one will enjoy.

[He smiles thinly. Gardens aren't his thing even if he enjoys them.]