better to do—just flit

Atendril brushed my face, tickling me on the nose. I jerked my head back and whacked it on the table leg behind me. "Wretched plant!" I said, rubbing my head with one hand as I pushed the vine away with the other.

Ever since my aunt had returned to her normal self, she hadn't been able to keep her mind on anything but her beloved Haywood. Her magic had suffered for it, becoming muddled and not quite as she'd intended. The flowering vines she'd planted in the Great Hall to celebrate their reunion had

shawl