Something Rose undoubtedly noticed upon entering the garden in the park: that not only is it greener than it should be in the blistering heat of the dual suns, the potted plants and long tendrils of the vines that creep and cover the trees overhead still relatively lush, but the entire area has an almost dewy quality to it, the air cool and moist like the morning rather than sickeningly humid. Upon inspection, the entire area is covered in numerous sigils, circles and symbols coming together to form glyphs that then come together in a complex array: the lines trail down each pot, are etched into the wood surrounding plots and shrubs, coming together to a singular point of contact near a small cottage deep in the green.

She may also notice something else along the ground: black dots of an ink-like fluid, then a patch of the same here and there, forming a trail that leads around the back of the aforementioned building. The door to the structure is ajar, but its inhabitant is out -- that's likely him hacking around the back. He hasn't heard his visitor yet, but if he was hoping to avoid company by being out here, he's going to be sorely disappointed.