As they grappled, the faun offered a compliment. This caused Felicity to legitimately smile, as compliments were rarely given to her. Yet, she remembered where she was. As the mud sloshed beneath them, Felicity knew she needed to move. She could easily slip, and the grapple was turning towards Philomel's favor.

Felicity tried turning herself to the side. Letting go with one hand, she ducked and tried to aim a hard elbow at the faun's hips. Still unable to grapple the sword from her, Felicity was left with a choice: continue to grapple, stuck her, or ignore the blade entirely and simply wrestle. At this point, their bodies were pretty much touching. Heated by the battle, and the sun, they were burning as they struggled for control. They inched closer to the creek as they struggled, the mud threatening to dislodge them with every movement. Felicity swallowed, deciding to take the risk. Besides, if she bled, she bled into the liquids below. And the ground would be tainted with her nuclear blood...

Felicity finally let go.

She immediately aimed for Philomel's waistline. Foregoing all forms of caution, she decided on her plan. Wrestling. She would attempt to lock the faun in her grip, her waist and legs, and toss her over into the mud. If this went well. Philomel too was an incredible fighter, with grace and speed far surpassing Felicity's. Plus, there was still the sword in her hand...