Lottie watched the flames approach the first furrow with some apprehension. They hadn't had a chance to get wet burlap sacks to beat out any sparks that might jump the dishes, and she didn't know if they'd be able to stomp them out with their feet if that happened. There might be too many. But it looked as though Idun's assessment was spot on. It looked as though it was going to work!
As she watched the fire eat through what was available to burn, Philotes saw what was happening. The grass was young enough to still be short and green. Any later in the year, if the blades were any taller or dryer, and they wouldn't have been successful. But right now, all the fire was burning through were the dry and dead blades under the new shoots, and a few twigs here and there. There were little sparks, but they didn't go far because there wasn't a breeze to carry them.
In short: they got lucky.
Lottie didn't really care if it was luck or skill or whatever it might be, they'd still saved France! She was just going to skip over that little part about how they'd set it on fire to begin with. Happy with their win against the fire, she turned and gave Idun a good squeezey hug and a little laugh. “We did it! It worked!”
Then, still smiling, she looked around and realized they'd made quite a mess of the field, both in setting it ablaze and in the resulting rescue. That was going to cause some consternation for the mortals in the morning. Nodding toward the field, she made the suggestion, “I say we blame it on the horse.”