Sharon's right behind her thrown weapon; she grabs the javelin and deals a blow to the nerve that runs along the man's jaw, knocking him cold – and maybe knocking a few teeth loose, too.

Once she's sure he's out and that Bucky has more than held his own, she kneels to bind him as the Dora do the same with the other groaning, miserable poachers.

Her breathless smile is a quick flash of white teeth. "Hope you don't mind us crashing your party," she says, and swallows hard against the coppery feel of exertion in her chest.