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"It is inarguably my forest," she says, "and I would like you to get out of it."

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"You haven't even asked me what I'm doing here," sniffs the wizard.

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"I invite you to explain, but advise you to be brief about it."

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"Well, you see, I'm simply here to -" And with that he makes a break for it, running full-tilt through the trees in the direction he was originally headed.

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Sherlock studies his course for a moment, and then sets off at a slight angle.

She catches up half a minute later, drawing her sword on the way.

"Would you like to try that again?" she inquires.
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He brandishes his staff at her. "You leave me alone! This is harassment! Discrimination!"

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"This," says Sherlock, "is trespassing. And shortly it will be violence."

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"You'll regret not leaving me to go on my way!" exclaims the wizard, and he shakes his staff again, but this time it pours chill into the air, frosting the surrounding trees and Sherlock alike.

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That is quite enough for Sherlock, who steps forward and swings her sword at his neck.

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Apparently he was expecting the frost to do more to stop a part-fire-witch than that, because he has nothing further up his sleeve - in his staff - whatever - he's dead now.

Meanwhile, Bella is wondering aloud to Tony: "Should we catch up with her and see if she needs help?"
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"Probably," Tony agrees, and traces Sherlock's path.

Although Sherlock is not doing anything more out of the ordinary than cleaning her sword when they arrive, Tony takes one look at her and frowns worriedly.
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"...So, are you okay?" Bella asks. "Also, can I have his staff? I can wrap it up so it doesn't try to grab any forest magic."

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"He used a frost spell. I am uncomfortable, but will survive. Do what you like with the staff," she says, sheathing her sword.

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"Sherryyyyy," says Tony. "That's horrible!"

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"...Do you need - I have some - if you want -" Bella sets about rummaging in her left sleeve. "Brightwort and goldflower and a little sorcery, if you want me to patch you up?"

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"Yes," she says. "Thank you."

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Brightwort and goldflower are both produced. "I don't suppose either of you can set these on fire for me? I also have matches, somewhere, I think but am not sure..." Rummage, rummage.

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"Sure, just say when," says Tony.

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"Soon, soon," murmurs Bella, and she gets out a glass plate, arranges the herbs on it, and says, "Sherlock, I'm going to need to hold your hand - or something, but hand's easiest."

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Sherlock divests herself of a gauntlet and offers Bella her hand.

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Bella clasps Sherlock's hand in both of hers and tries not to blush, mostly successfully. "Now, Tony?"

When the herbs are aflame, she says:

"Mulaglarby!"

And Sherlock should feel much better now.
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She lets out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you."

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"You're welcome," says Bella cheerfully, letting Sherlock's hand go with a pat and blowing herbal ashes from her glass plate before she tucks it into her sleeve again. "Lucky thing I have so many healing trigger-spells set up. Comes of wanting to be immortal." She goes up to the staff cautiously, puts her spectacles on, and starts peering at it through various lenses in search of traps to disarm or work around.

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Sherlock spends a moment smiling before she puts her gauntlet back on.

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"This will take me about two hours to make it safe to pick up and put away, or I could destroy it right now," Bella finally announces. "Do you two object to waiting that long?"

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