A little annoyed that Rylee was essentially giving her hard-earned fireworks away with little issue, a frown played over her mouth for a moment before she gave a shrug.
"Let'er do it, but she gets to use your lighter, not mine," was her short, and tart, response, clutching on to the one thing she wouldn't have to reasonably share.
Digging through the box, she herself pulled out a handful of multicolored sparklers, took a few steps away from the box, and flicked her lighter on. A moment later she was holding a handful of colorful fire - a few went into her left hand, and her right twirled through the air. Controlling such a destructive and yet beautiful force had always amazed her, and despite her earlier remark about sparklers, they were one of her favorite things to light off on the Fourth.