What he could be muttering to himself was slightly muted as there was no one really around to speak to. His hands remained busy, pushing and pulling at the soil, taking up the roots of weeds and placing them aside in a small basket to the side. Even though it was the evening, it was warm, and the small lights illuminated just enough to see what he was doing. Already focused enough, Dorian exhaled heavily and leaned both of his palms onto the dirt, looking down. He felt sick, the ordeal made little sense, even though he had been here for awhile and there were familiar faces it only smoothed the wound of confusion just in a minor manner.

"What have you been doing with you're life recently, Dorian?" The sarcastic, accented voice murmured as he shoved the dirt downward, pulling it out sharply and reaching for a plant of mint. "Oh you know, a bit of gardening between world shifts--" And then he paused when he saw the flickering out of the corner of his eye, noting the movement and pausing quietly, his mouth shutting and looking towards the small shape, blinking several times. There were strange things to see within his home land, but this was new and akin to some of the creatures he could summon with his own skill in necromancy.

"I'm either seeing things or you're here to tell me, how much space should I leave between the mint and the black cohosh."