Lifting quizzical eyes from the pages of her book, Branna rose from her chair by the fire where she had just sat down to read before retiring for the evening. Limp to her gait, she went to the table, lifting a small lamp from the center and moving over to the fire, collecting a stick from the edges to light the wick. A small flame quickly bloomed into life on the oil soaked fibers, illuminating the living space with a brighter glow that Chased The shadows from the walls. Closing the glass door with a soft squeak, she then headed for the front door, hesitating for a moment with her fingers above the handle before she finally pulled it open, looking out hesitantly into the darkness of the night, Lifting the lamp out in front of her.

"Oh!" She gasped softly as the glow washed over the small clearing and onto a rather familiar looking face of a young man, outlining the edges of his dark locks and intense eyes. She had only seen that face once before, and then only briefly, but it had been able to make such an impression upon her that she believed that she would never be able to forget it again. Before he could notice her hesitation, Branna allowed a bright smile to blossom onto her face, teeth a flash of White in the darkness. "good evening Sir. It's rather late to be taking a walk, is it not?" She teased lightly, gaze drifting to the beautiful gelding at his side, eyebrows lifting a little. "Or should I say, Late for a ride. It's dangerous to take a horse into such a place when it is dark. They might lame a leg in such conditions." As she spoke, She made her way down the front steps, crossing The short expanse of lawn before coming to a halt A respectful distance away, preforming what curtsy she could without causing further injury to her leg.

Her dark gaze studied the young Lord subtly, Making note of his good looks and stylish trim he had given to his hair, the rich texture of his clothing... Or what she could see of his features beneath the generous amounts of mud and algae that had undoubtedly come straight from the pond she had led him into. She suppressed the grin that threatened to split her lips, making an effort to remember to offer him a fresh set of garments and a washing cloth, if not a hot bath. It was the least she could do with her being responsible for his current situation.