For a second, she's scared. For a second she's absolutely terrified.

Then, suddenly, she's not.

She's very, very angry.

"I don't fucking think so," Athena hisses. She steps around Raylan, taking in the locations of the two men approaching and Boyd's stupid position with his stupid face on the stupid porch.

And then she sings, with a deep-throated, belted out passion that Raylan hasn't heard from her before. She's never been this angry around him before. This angry with a familiar weapon at her fingertips.

"Young blood, run like a river
Young blood, never get chained
Young blood, heaven need a sinner
You can't raise hell with a saint
Young blood, came to start a riot
Don't care what your old man say
Young blood, heaven hate a sinner
But we gonna raise hell anyway."

It's instant chaos. The vehicles Boyd and his goons came in start to rust immediately, brown-red patches spidering out and thickening all over, connecting and spreading as the tires burst and the seats inside start to rot.

The shotgun suffers much the same fate, as do the weapons their antagonists yank out of hiding almost the moment they have them in hand.

Then their belt buckles go. Then the rest of the metal fastenings on whatever they're wearing. Their boots.

And then the cloth itself, and she's not sorry, not one fucking bit.

Not a thing that Raylan owns sees a scratch.