It flew over my head

-Adjusted trajectory 3 degrees to the left... Just so I get this right, I had to dig through mud and wood for tools, but using your bag to get us leather caps is totally ok?

-If you talk when flying you'll bite your tongue off! Anyway, here we go!

Lucy ignored Planck's question and threw a sledgehammer behind her to launch them into the air.

About an hour earlier

-This tree weighs like a ton and a half!

-That's what I was thinking!

Lucy was seemingly enthusiastic she and Planck were on the same page. Him? Not so much.

-...So what's the plan?

-Look at this sketch I made, we're going to lift the tree with a bunch of pulleys and then place it on top of the ballista, we'll sit on it and fly over to save time.

-I hate to be a pessimist but last I checked broken fences aren't durable enough to withstand over a ton. Not to mention the energy that'll get released.

-A million and half Joules! Well, almost. I hope you're not too heavy.

-It wasn't me who wolfed a bag of Maca–YOU WANT US TO SIT ON THAT THING?

Lucy approached Planck with a serious expression.

-Never give up on your dreams, no matter how painful and difficult your journey is.

It was quite hard to tell whether Lucy was being serious or playing around most of the time. For the sake of every carpenter and timberman in the world, a terrorized boy silently prayed for the latter.

-How about you dream about something a regular lady your age would like? I heard there's a lot of cats and swee–

-Shut up and listen. 

Lucy ordered Planck to keep quiet and pulled a blackboard out of nowhere.

-For our range R the distance is maximized at 45 degrees. We gotta cover 200 meters and move at √1960 meters per second. Gravity and stuff. Take this and wrap it around the tree, it'll help us pick it up.

One energetic explanation later Lucy handed Planck a rope, quite long one, black and smooth, leaving places that touch it black, and leaned over to whisper into his ear.

-Never comment on woman's sweet tooth. Now, get to work.

Some time later

What they were looking at couldn't be described as anything else as arbocide and desecration. A tree roped around and pulleys hanging from what's little remaining of the surrounding flora would have made everyone around rethink what they're doing. Almost everyone. The "ballista" was barely hanging on, held by nothing but hopes, glue and nails. It would be its first and only use before getting decommissioned. Thank you for your service, ballista-dono.

-On a count of three we will pull it together and place it on top of the fruit our hard-work.

-Our? You were too busy throwing pulleys around anywhere they'd hold to help me out.

-Fine, fine, got a name for YOUR creation? 

-Stefan.

-Forget I asked. On three. One, two, THREEEEEEE!

On a count of three, tree moved up ever so slightly and our lovely duo quickly learned their limits. The hardest part is to get it moving, after the initial pull it gets easier. By no means easy.

-Huh, great, now hold it and I'll move it on top of Stefan.

It was a race with time, as removing an anchor meant a lot of physics stuff was happening which resulted in Planck starting ever so slightly getting pulled back. The hardest part is to get it moving, after the initial pull it gets easier. She needed to hurry. A swift somersault with her feet landing on the tree next to their captive, a push in Stefan's direction and, albeit as a surprise to many, Planck being overwhelmed by tree's mass first instead of the local flood survivors, lead to the lost tree being one step closer to getting back home. If it's not going to suffer from transplant shock by being replanted it definitely suffers a pre-transplant shock right now.

-Math:1, tree: 0.

-I'm not sure we should be keeping that score.

-All aboard! I'll leave you behind if you don't hurry!

-Brilliant!

Planck was about to happily stroll back, but stepped into a perfectly planted snare-trap. Someone foresaw him doing that.

-Are you mad? For all the dark and gloom and tidiness and... what I'm trying to say is I'd never leave you behind! Now free yourself with this and jump aboard.

Lucy handed him a rusted saw.

Back to the present.

Lucy picked up some items out of her bag. A spyglass and two leather caps to keep them safe to give them illusion of safety.

-Adjust the trajectory 3 degrees to the left!

-Adjusted trajectory 3 degrees to the left... Just so I get this right, I had to dig through mud and wood for tools, but using your bag to get us leather caps is totally ok?

-If you talk when flying you'll bite your tongue off! Anyway, here we go!

Lucy ignored Planck's question and threw a sledgehammer behind her to launch them into the air.

Against all odds, ballista actually fired and this day will forever be remembered as the day Stefan sacrificed himself for the greater good. A lot was said in the short time they were speeding through the air, mostly cries of joy and despair. The landing was rather brutal. The tree did land where they hoped for, but the sudden breaking didn't occur for two blondes atop. They kept flying and hit an elderly gentleman.

A small crowd gathered. Someone exclaimed: -Live ammunition! As in the projectiles are alive!

Overworked and underpaid Planck was quick to correct him: -We're no projectiles, we're victims of one certain madwoman.

Lucy was focused on her victim: -Mr Propor are you alive?! You might be old but you're too young to die!

-You'll be the next one to die if you don't get right off of me...

-Oh yeah, right. Anyway we replanted the tree so now we can anchor the rope to it and measure...

-I beg your pardon, my age and very recent concussion make it hard for me to hear properly.

-WE. HAVE. REPLANTED. THE—

-OKAY! I heard you. I thought you were already done with reestablishing the property lines. Let us go and measure it together then.

With each word spoken, Lucy was hearing Propor less and less clearly, a feeling she was all too familiar. Her time was running out.