"I think the enchantment is one of protection, but I do not know enough to tell of what sort." He reaches up to rub a leaf between his fingers, pleased by the fresh, cool feel of it. There is nothing quite like fresh flowers in the morning, still beaded with dew. That these feel as such always? Is delightful.

"Seven, at least." He quirks a brow at Sam, wondering what he's heading for. "Why?"