[Edmund carefully releases the metal tray into Will's grasp, or the grasp of invisible forces. Both. Then he's eyeing the ground, shrugging and swinging himself around to hop down from the roof, landing in a neat roll that has him back to his feet in a matter of seconds. See? This is fine. No worse than dropping from the helm over the railing down to the main deck of the Dawn Treader and he'd done that no less than a hundred times in the last months.

Had to do something to keep themselves busy after all.]

I haven't the faintest idea where to replant it though. It needs a great deal of sunlight so a pot is hardly acceptable.