Rose's spell zapped true, just as one of the ogre's wild blows finally landed. Its tree-sized black armtrunk imparted sufficient momentum to fling her across the room, where she thunked into the wall and slid down it.

That was going to leave a bruise. One, if one could count her entire back as a single surface. Still, she wasn't about to let it slow her down. As soon as she landed, she scrambled to her feet and ran after the ogre that held Ilia's attention, tugging her pillow out as she ran. Not to hold under Ilia; that would take the passive-aggressive response to a level not appropriate to the middle of a fight.

Wait. Was there a level that was ever inappropriate? Well, maybe she would hang onto the pillow. But what she was after right now was the pillowcase, which she dug her knives into and started cutting it into a long ribbon, which she started weaving between the ogre's feet in a figure eight. If it came down, then she might use the pillow.