Blinking as the sword was snatched from her hands she looked up to Donald and then looked at Rook, he was surrounded. Her emerald eyes looked to the ground  as she spotted a rock. Scooping up the large stone, she found herself tearing a wide strip of her dress as she fashioned it into a sling.<br/><br/>The stone nestled into the crook of the fabric she began to whirl it above her head, no one messed with her horse. Her emerald eyes were set in determination at one of the wolves that were snapping at Rookâ€™s hooves. With a small grunt she let the rock fly, a sharp yelp, and the sound of a body tumbling allowed her to tell that she had hit her mark.<br/><br/>Then her eyes were once again on the ground looking for another stone as her shins were showing where she had torn the piece from. Branwennâ€™s ankles looking delicate, yet as the eye traveled up, would see strong calves. The rest of her dress however blocked the sight of milky thighs of a similar build.