WARNING: Mild coarse language.

Yarng: Are you f*cking serious, Kholten?! You think this is a game?
Kholten: Me? A game?! You're the one who always—
Yarng: Don't you dare turn this around on me! You're the one who keeps messing with my wards! It's not funny, it's dangerous!
Kholten: I was just... experimenting! Trying to see how they'd react to a little heat! It's not like I actually broke anything, did I?
Yarng: A little heat?! You nearly scorched my entire geomancy circle! Do you have any idea how long that takes to set up? And the energy it drains?
Kholten: Oh, boo hoo, your precious dirt circles! Maybe if they weren't so fragile, I wouldn't have to be so careful.
Yarng: Fragile?! They're intricate! They're powerful! And they're mine! You have no right to meddle with my magic, you arrogant pyro!
Kholten: And you have no right to act like you're the only sorcerer around here! Maybe if you weren't so uptight about everything, you'd actually see how much I'm trying to help!
Yarng: Help? Your "help" almost caused a localized fissure! Is that what you call helping, you dense idiot?!
Kholten: Fissure?! It was a small tremor! You're always so dramatic!
Yarng: Get out of my face, Kholten. I can't even look at you right now without wanting to bury you up to your neck in solid rock.
Kholten: Fine! See if I care! Maybe I'll just go find someone who actually appreciates my talents!
Yarng: Good! Don't let the door hit you on the way out! And stay the hell away from my practice space!
Kholten: You got it, bat sh*t for brains!