Well, if Philotes could agree with her about the plan working, clearly it was going to end favorably. Nothing terrible was going to happen. Well, nothing terrible beyond a bit of singed grass and a few traumatized woodland creatures. Everything would recover in time! No irreparable damage would be done. Idun was feeling confident now. The horse was listening to her, and Philotes was figuring all the tricky stuff out with ease, and Idun felt very confident that she could find Bragi later and tell him all about this evening without having to hide her face in shame.
She wasn't going to burn down a country. Perhaps she'd suggest that ending revision if Bragi decided to work his storytelling magic with it at a later date, but France would, in reality, be quite safe.
Idun rather appreciated the horse's easy clip as they approached the field. He was in no hurry, and even though she and Philotes kind of were, his lack of speed registered as a complete and utter lack of panic. He didn't seem bothered by the flickering brightness in the distance.
And then the horse grew very bothered by it, and Idun was left frowning. Way to make me a liar, Mr. Horse. Now was not the time to grumble, however. As soon as Philotes spoke, Idun's attention snapped right to her, partly because she was a good, sweet, dear new friend and she deserved Idun's attention whenever she wanted it, but mostly because of the growing urgency in her voice. She was staying calm, but her voice wasn't doing as good a job. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Idun couldn't tell. She was too busy trying not to panic.
"Okay. Okay, don't worry, we are going to find it, just hold on, I'll help you look, it's probably just staring us in the face, don't even worry at all Philotes, alright, it's fine fine fine," she said, in a rush of improper punctuation that would've made her husband cringe. Idun wasn't doing her best at not panicking. There was definitely room for improvement. But after a few soothing words were offered to the horse, Idun started feeling around for what might be a lever. The plow clearly had one, it was just a matter of finding it.
She almost cried when she gave something a pull and the blade went down. "See!" she exclaimed happily, then shook her head and lowered her voice. She was pretty sure the horse was glaring at her, even though she'd offered him quite a few comforting words. "Alright, now we just need to make some ditches. It'll be easy from here, I just know it. And I didn't want to say anything before, we were busy and all, but is something wrong with your leg? You're not hurt, are you? Oh, I'd never forgive myself if you were hurt. Come on, Horse. We're going to make ditches and save the day."