[The fairy they approach is on the taller side, wings a translucent brown that looks near amber in the light. He seems to ignore them at first, but once the plants are watered to his satisfaction he turns to see the group. The fae glances at their wrists, then back to them; like any student here he's dark hair and brown-eyed, with shades of green enhancing his features marking him different.]

Morning. [A soft, sort of rough voice greets them, a gentle incline of his head. The emerald glitter upon his cheeks sparkles a little as he continues.] Not often we of the Seelie have guests, though once known treat best. Care for a flower? They love to sing, and give one power. Think they'd look pretty in your hair, seeing one so fair.

[To Nene, with a small smile.]

Have you a name to give, or in knowledge dark must I live?