"Oh my goods!"

Philomel was rarely taken off guard. In fact she was limited in ways that she could be surprised, mainly for the reason that she could sense the earth. It gave her an innate awareness beyond the five senses, and allowed a certain degree of steady and sure knowledge. And this was not mentioning the abilities of she concentrated - being able to sense every plant, building and being who touched the ground and dust for many miles surrounding. That was powerful indeed. Especially in the midst of battle.

But Philomel had not been listening that precise moment to the earth. Instead she had been staring the beauty into her eyes and grinding her teeth. Sword trapped anxiously between them they had been a waltz for wrestlers, arms and hands and feet precisely perched. All it had taken was flame hair to unexpectedly move and Philomel went - down!

Backwards. Thwunk.

Straight into the mud.

Nameless feel from her hand as her bottom was plunged into wet and dirty. It became a dash of snow amongst the shallow river.

The Matriarch let out a gasp, looking right up at the eyes above her, caught in surprise. She blinked, then blinked again. One two. Three four. Caught entirely out of hand, despite all the strength and mystery of her.

She did the only thing she could think of. And reacted.

She burst into laughter.