[With a fierce tug on her part, Amelia wrenches away the tormented curtain, ripping it in two. The dog now has a burning plaything, and he seems delighted with it, running off again and proving himself to be a continued fire hazard.]

That thrice-cursed beast is starting to wear on my patience. [Her tone is indicative of her growing agitation as she grips her portion of the curtain tightly, unconsciously poking small holes in it with her claws.]

This is not working. We need another strategy. And quickly, lest it burn down the entire building.