just screaming and flinging clothes oic

[Her smile broadens, hands curling around the handle of her broom, pleased that once in a while the City actually lets these things turn out alright, lets friendships come back with memories. Too often, she's had to let the past go because someone's told her that they aren't who she remembers, that they can't be the same person. It's exhausting. The whole place is exhausting, so to have this reprieve helps.]

Then hang on.

[She pulls up on the handle and the broom rises into the air, a smooth ascent that brings them up above the treeline, and she brings a hand up to pull her braid over her shoulder so the wind doesn't whip it everywhere, calling back,]

Right, then, you pick where we go.