When the first crack of lightning lights up the sky, it takes all of Amy's stores of stubborn courage not to panic, even if the still-healing scars on her neck make it hard to stay completely even-keeled, but what also doesn't help? The fact that there's a few sheep charging her way when the hail starts coming down, like she's some kind of sheep-whisperer and ought to know what to do.

"Hey, whoa!" she says, suddenly panicked as she tries to catch one of them by the wool and stop them from running off too far. While it'd be nice to have a mutton stew for dinner, she doesn't exactly want to see a sheep get fried by lightning anytime soon, seeing as it'd probably be a messy process. "Hey!" Amy shouts, squinting through the storm. She'll head home or to the nearest shelter, but she has to make sure the animals get the same benefit. "Hey, come and help!" she demands, reaching out to try and get hold of the other one. She's already scanning the nearby area for some place to go, but has the feeling inside is probably the best place to be.

They just might have a very sheep-like smell to deal with for a while, but better that than cleaning up sheep blood and guts.