"But we all need a walking stick in this snow, I should think." But it's a fair point.

She looks at the material - and yes, she has a plan for that. A crude weapon as it was, but her gold worked for more than just decorated. Heavy, it would work well once she had the momentum on it.

But she glances to her companion, clearing her throat. "Are you cold, mistress? Here - " It's an easy excuse - who wasn't cold, right now? She unravels that material from around her neck. It's no great loss, either for the cold or her own defence - she's got straps of material to spare. The sash at her waist, the rebel insignia so crudely tied to her forearm.

The blue and gold threaded material is bunched up in her hand and offered up. "It should help, against this weather."