Branwenn heard the horns, but her heart was within her throat as she backed up against Donald the stick in her hands wielded like a club. Gulping, she swung the stick at one of the wolves who feigned an advance, but quickly yelped as the stick smashed down upon his snout. A triumphant laugh broke from her lips, but quickly died away as she watched the wolves still circling.<br/><br/>â€œDonaldâ€¦.â€ Her voice soft and hesitant as she dared not pry her emerald gaze from scrutinizing the vicious canineâ€™s predatory gaze. The sound of hooves and the horn drew nearer as Branwenn began to dread more than the wolvesâ€™ sharp teeth. Now she feared the strike of her father, and possibly the strike of her fiancÃ©. Shoulders trembling the young maiden cleared her throat as she didnâ€™t dare call out an insult now.