A softer barricade

I marched across the floorboards toward a large green cushion resting beside the armchair. It appeared dense. I squared my footing, braced my spear, and pressed my shield firmly into the fabric. It gave way. My boots slid forward an inch as the surface compressed like thick moss. I pushed harder. The cushion pushed back with gentle, steady pressure, keeping me upright. It does not clatter like timber, but it absorbs momentum well. I held the perimeter for ten seconds.