"Yeah? Why's that?" The words are bereft of any genuine challenge - but if it's what Chip believes, he's not about to dismiss it outright. Chances are there's a reason for that, and he can't exactly blame them. He recalls needing to forcibly prevent people from jumping into the magic water and taking a little swim, just because they could.

It's difficult not to touch on the wealth of gardening knowledge that he knows runs beneath his veins, in the circuits of his berry-red soul. It's even more difficult to discern in earnest if this comes down to some basic reasoning he's always had, or the full extent of someone else's memories. And hasn't he reaped enough from that which never belonged to him?

"Here." He demonstrates the act of weeding by digging fingertips into the loose earth and slowly working the plant's roots free from the dirt. "You gotta pull 'em out by the roots, see?"