Aw, fuck. The momentary stagger messed with Yvonne's timing and her strength sapped away by the time the werebear closed in. The sore hadn't set it yet, but the moment she stopped moving it'll all come at once. Bugger, but that's for future her to worry about. Now she had an angry armored bear trying to eat her face and she's running out of options.

So, let's go back to the old adage - when in doubt, go for the nuts.

Utilizing the momentum, the parried poleaxe was spun before sent thrusting into the unarmored crotch. Not like the dangly bits was visible, but it should be there still. Yvonne wasn't actually sure if the bear was male, but fun fact: low blows like this wasn't actually gender-specific.

If this fails, well, she's likely screwed six ways from Sunday. But that's for future Yvonne to worry about.