The explosion of the soldier ant sends the others scurrying and leaves Ilde fleetingly grateful for having worn jeans and not jeans she cares much about staining. Ant innards aren't pleasant, and she kicks one of the others back into the mess it made as she shoves herself out of the hidden rooms, candle still clutched in her hand. That it's still lit is some kind of miracle, and convenient enough that she takes the time to touch it to a few dry places before throwing it down as she runs for the front door.