As soon as her hands are off the ice, the hole begins closing up. By the time she's on her feet again, it's down to nothing. She hears Sif shouting, but she ignores it. Whoever is watching them knows Faolan is there.

She just walks to the other side of the rapidly shrinking box, the spire of the tower right ahead of her in the distance. "Faolan, stay in the bag." The dagger comes back out of her sleeve and her off hand traces a symbol in the air, throws it into the leather of the bag. Sif may notice that it stiffens against her, the leather suddenly as unyielding as stone. Cho traces a new circle on the new wall, an exact duplicate of her last one.

With her hands in the center of it, the ice begins to melt. "I can do this all day," she says, eyes on the far off spire. Her voice isn't anywhere near as loud as Sif's shouting, just slightly raised, as though issuing a challenge to an opponent sitting just above her. Her voice will not carry to the tower, but she's sure she's being heard. "If you're not playing by rules, then neither am I. I will burn through every wall between you and I, and then I will burn through you. If you want to test me, go ahead, put me in another box."

When the hole is large enough, she shifts around to expose it. "Sif. Same as the last one." Her eyes don't leave their mark.