"Bella...I'm not going to fall or hurt myself by lifting something heavier than I can carry." Malia scowled her lightly, "And I'm not a delicate orchid or daffodil or other kind of flower. I'm a were-coyote. I'm made to survive where others won't."
She turned and put her hands on her dearest friend's shoulders and looked her right in the eyes, "You need to worry less about me and more about yourself. We both already know that I'm going survive anything anyone throws at me, no matter how big or mean or just plain ugly they are. Also, magic makes things grow weird and taste funny. No magic in the garden."
She'd put up some lattices around the edge of the roof to keep any one from falling herself if it would make Bella feel better. It wouldn't be hard for her to do that by herself in a day even.