Hunting had been one of the few things Isabel had been allowed to learn openly alongside her brothers.  Many noble women were excellent shots and could hunt well.  Isabel had painstakingly gained a good deal of skill herself over the years, for the sole reason that she could not bear any ill-placed shot that would allow the animal to suffer overmuch.  More than once she had hastened to finish a badly wounded deer, tears in her eyes.<br/><br/>But she had never yet struck the first blow to any creature herself, despite often having easy shots presented to her.  Her brothers teased her unmercifully for this, but it wasn't as though they were in need of the food, after all.  She could shoot or not, as she chose.<br/><br/>Now, of course, there was no choice at all.<br/><br/>Most of what the Doctor said meant nothing to her, but she was growing used to that by now.  Gingerly and slowly, she drew an arrow from her quiver and presented it to him.  "If you could spare him too much violence, I would be grateful," she said.  William's grip relaxed the slightest fraction -- or she thought it did, she couldn't be sure -- and she wondered if he understood at least that they had his best interests at heart.