Harry stepped up behind Bobby, setting his beer aside on a table and looking down into the umbrella stand with a discerning eye. He lifted one of the thicker, walking-stick-sized branches out of the container carefully, turning it over in his hand before sliding it back in. The process repeated itself a few times, before he finally went back to the one he picked up first, settling it down on the ground next to him. It stood about to his shoulder, about as thick around as his forearm. With a 'what the hell' sort of face, he pushed just a hint of energy into the wood, satisfied with the resonant thrum he felt in response.
"Not bad. You said there was more? I could use a smaller piece, too, if you've got it," Which was true- kind of. Mostly, he was just curious to see what else the guy had. To know what he was dealing with, and all.