She had expected a few ways the next few seconds turn around. Perhaps it was a feint and old Delving will pull back and try to skewer her. He could try punch her away with the shield. Or use whatever flashing means he previously did to regain the distance. Heck, she even kept half an eye toward the berserkers just in case.

What she didn't expect was a heavy blow taking her right on the calf, fatally breaking her ongoing rhythm.

[b][color=#a4161a]"GAH what the fuck-"[/color][/b] She lost her footing for a moment, a vulnerable lul that could've gotten her skewered if the old man pressed his attack. She had thought that the bastard somehow managed to outplay her, but then he stepped back and glared with severe disapproval. It came as a surprise to him too, then. Yvonne risked a glance as she steadied on her good leg, finding the pale spear that nicked her rather bad.

...bad wasn't sufficient to describe it, honestly. It all but punched through flesh and part of the greaves, just a bit off and she'd probably need to reattach the whole limb. She certainly cant move her foot, the tendon connecting to it completely cut. Fucking great.

[b][color=#a4161a]"Dead gods. If you cant shoot straight, dont shoot at all!"[/color][/b] Still, what's done is done. Better worry about the next five minutes. In precarious balance Yvonne remained in place, sword forward and blazing amber eyes locked at the Delving patriarch. She needed a chance to apply the potion, but there's no guarantee her foe will give her the chance. If he break the flasks, then she's well and truly cooked.