Fenris considered the problem. "Can you sweep it into the air with your staff? If you can, I could probably chop it into some sort of parasitic-weed salad."

A beat.

"Not that I suggest we eat it."

The mistletoe never learned. It crept too close and Fenris hacked it into pieces a little more aggressively than he needed to. "Andraste's tits, what does it want!?"