Later she'll let herself be embarrassed that she was caught off guard. Her first response is a mix of surprise and irritation. She's tired and it delays her reaction enough that Herian topples far too easily, without even the chance to twist or grab and drag her attacker into the fountain with her.

The water shouldn't shock, it's too shallow on too warm a day, but it is contrast enough to the air that Herian gasps as she pushes herself up. She is sitting in a fountain, arms braces behind her and clothes drenched, save for the knee down which are still partly hooked at the lip of the fountain. Her boots, at least, are dry. That's a mercy. There is a fantastic string of Starkhaven poised on her tongue, a reaction that she rarely ever indulges and is bitten down on even before she looks up and registers the knave responsible for this insult.

Her gaze is cold, she is all the fury of a winter storm, and then she is shocked into something that might just pass for a smile. "You."

You bastard, you star. Maturely, Herian splashes some water at Sabine in retaliation.