Shikeo freezes at the command, hearing a screech that could almost rival Dambi's. He looks up at Fandaniel as he goes off on his tirade, a little wide-eyed.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." It sounds nervous, but genuine. He didn't mean to mess up.

He begins digging the seeds back up as he's told, holding the wet and soiled seeds in his palm as he digs others out. He tries to keep up with the instructions; one foot between seeds, six inches deep. He can't help that it's a bit sloppy, between anxiety and inexperience, but he's desperate to appease the man. He begins picking the seeds apart from his palm, though he finds it difficult to get just a single, tiny one, instead getting clusters of two or three as he tries to separate them more.

"Urrrm..."

How unfortunate to only have two hands.