"It's me," whispered a familiar voice.
"Der—"
Thwack. He stumbled, Liz behind him, a sturdy branch raised.
"Liz, it's—"
She hit him again, a home-run swing between the shoulders, and he went down with an oomph and an oath. She recognized the voice—or the curse—and leaned over, getting a look at him.
(Liz) "Whoops."
(Simon) "I'd say he deserved that, always sneaking up on people."

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