He loves Sherlock. Sherlock lets out a little rueful laugh at that. Their relationship has always been strained, though they are brothers. Mycroft loves Sherlock. Sherlock thinks that if he didn't hate his brother so much, he might love him as well. Shame they'd never know that.

"They'll sweep the forest in a clockwise motion," he says, gesturing to the grass. The grass is overgrown, but there is a slight burn of hovercraft energy at the tips.

"The trees? Build a small sleeping area there?"