Oneword: Thorns

[floppybelly]

John shook his head at the state of Sherlock’s trench coat. It had several rips in it, the hem was soaking wet, and there were burrs and thorns stuck in all along the sleeves. “It’ll take a tailor more talented than me to fix this, Sherlock,” John sighed, placing the near-ruined coat on the couch next to him. “The next time you think it’s absolutely necessary to go running through briars, remember that I’m only experienced in sewing sutures.”

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