Yes, Dakota was sure that there was something weird going on here, mostly because Madeleine had just done what the older girl could only imagine was her best attempt at maniacal laughter. It was like if a miniature poodle wearing a wildflower crown with sparkly ribbons tried to imitate a giant Rottweiler. Technically something that could happen, just not something that could happen believably, and definitely not something you’d expect. Dakota had known Madeleine for pretty much as long as she’d known Drew (longer maybe - she couldn’t remember) and not once had it occurred to Dakota that Madeleine could do anything that wasn’t basically the embodiment of a ray of sunshine.
In fact, if Madeleine weren’t Madeleine, she would be absolutely vomit-inducing as a person, Dakota was sure.
“That’s right,” Dakota said, feeling like she was committing some kind of crime against humanity in admitting to Madeleine of all people that (a) she knew some less than squeaky-clean magic and (b) that she thought it was okay to use it. On the other hand, Dakota supposed there had been that whole incident with the fire spell a few years ago. And that had been before she had gone out of her way to learn as many nasty spells as possible to protect herself. Maybe Madeleine thought that she was in danger for some reason? That seemed entirely unrealistic because, again, Madeleine Tennant-McKindy, but who knew, right?
“I know a lot of those spells,” Dakota said, making sure her voice was not low enough to be suspicious to anyone passing by but also not loud enough that someone could overhear her clearly. “And if you ever think someone is going to hurt you or someone that you care about, it is absolutely okay to use them. That’s what they’re there for.” At least in Dakota’s opinion.