She glances down with a frown. Alright. The place was boobytrapped. She hadn't been expecting that, but maybe she should have. Well, it just meant she'd have to keep light on her toes, wouldn't she?

A moment's concentration on the ring on her finger, and suddenly her feet aren't touching the ground, high enough that not even her dangling toes brush the vividly-colored dust. And she lets herself drift forward after Roadhog, though keeping an eye out for any wires or strings that might also indicate some form of defense.

It's hard to tell if paranoia or boredom was more responsible for the state of this place.