"Sorry," she said quickly, closing her fist and banishing the fire. She'd dealt with flames and lashes too, but she'd had a few years longer than he had to work on distancing herself from those memories. She promised herself she would be more careful not to trigger them for him. "Here."
She reached into the bag, which was enchanted with one of those seemingly frivolous, invisible extension charms. A bottomless purse, if you will. From its depths, she withdrew a camping kettle, followed by a pouch of herbs that she had gathered for the dreamless sleep draught. The kettle she offered to Sam with a look of contrition. "I might be able to heat it without actual flames."