She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction, her lips twitching with mirth. It was her mistake and immediately, three acorns pelted her head. "Ouch!" startled by the sudden attack, Daphne glared up at the ceiling and quickly waved her arm, flicking her wrist she reached the last syllable of the incantation.

Self-preservation. Self-preservation. Unfortunately, that's all she could think about to keep herself as uninjured as possible, even though every ten seconds she's get hit by three to four acorns. Annoying!