𝔸𝔻𝕍𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕌ℝ𝔼. 𝔼nola ℍolmes

𝕋ℍℝ𝔼𝔼 the game is affoot.

𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄, 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 thing to do. I was mentally exhausted. I couldn't keep arguing about my future with a bunch of males and a female who already lived her life.

          I stared afar at the acres of green. I don't understand how anyone could hate the outdoors. It was beautiful. The grass was a luscious green color, and my eyes couldn't ever steer away from it. There were beautiful trees with the color of a lime green.

The sun glazed down on the field like mother use to look at me. She was tough and persistent on keeping schedule, but she had the utmost best intentions. And I wouldn't stand a chance without her. And neither would the grass without the sun.

"I also enjoy a sketch." Sherlock said. I looked down and saw the mess of his curls. I pressed my lips in a thin line and directed my attention to the beauty of nature.

"Helps me think, process my thoughts." He continued, sitting down. I wished he didn't. The last thing I wanted to do was speak with him. Instead, I wanted to hurt him. Quite physically.

"Helps me do the same." Enola agreed. Feeling mischievous, I handed her my sketch of Sherlock. His head was smaller than his body and he was crying, because of the apparent black eye he had. I was standing over him with a proud smile and two fists. It was my best work.

I folded it until it was small, shaped like a little box and tossed it at Enola's sketchbook. She paused her own actions and opened it. When she saw my sketch she glanced at me, smiling sneakily, and I returned it. I was glad that out of everyone, I had her.

She attempted to place in between her fingers and the book, along with her very own sketch she'd already shown me: but the wind carried them away. She tried to catch it but it had been too late, already floating down to sherlocks reach.

I sighed deeply. On impulse, I picked up the twig beside me and threw it at Enola's head. She grunted and looked up at me with annoyance.

Upon seeing Enola and I's sketches, he chuckled. I didn't know what was funny. If someone had drawn them beating me up, I would've gone mad. Mother always told me that I acted on impulse when I was angry, much less intelligence.

"A caricature. Perhaps best if Mycroft doesn't see it. Although, I'm glad I saw mine." Sherlock stated, briefly looking up at Enola. He couldn't see me. I made sure of it. I was burning in embarrassment and so was Enola, only I wasn't in eyesight.

"Do you two intend to stay up there?" Sherlock questioned.

"I was hoping for some privacy." Enola told. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes briefly. I loved it out here. The trees were so relaxing. I could stay here all day if I wanted too. I wished I could.

"You know, last I remember, you were quite a timid little thing. You had a pine cone wrapped in wool, dragged it with you wherever you went, calling it dash." Sherlock smiled, amused by the memories. "Someone told you that Queen Victoria had a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel called Dash, and you decided you wanted the same."

Enola started to climb down the tree but I stayed. I was still enjoying myself and I didn't want to face the harsh reality of what was being taken away from me. I had the world in my backyard. But, now it was slowly dissolving. Leaving me in the dust.