"It should not -"

Mary's voice breaks off, as she sees the woman running towards her - a stranger. A stranger who's glowing.

She could be an angel; she could be a witch. In either case, Mary grabs Dickon's arm, stopping him from going any further, and with her other hand she takes a protective hold of one of the branches of her apple tree.

"Something," she says, loudly, "is happening."