Gwenog swallowed against bile when she saw the colour drain from the young man's face, and he hadn't been exactly a picture of health to start with. Her own pain or pain from a game she was fine with, someone being attacked far less so. "You shouldn't be apologising," she growled as she resettled her hand around the tip of his middle finger. This was definitely a situation to be grateful that she was strong, since she knew bones and muscles could be stubborn.
"Mae'n dim byd," she said, brushing away his thank you. Then she started, realising that he'd spoken Welsh to her. "Rydych yn siarad Cymraeg," she said, surprised. It wasn't a widely spoken language, especially outside North Wales. She studied his face, for a couple of seconds before taking a deep breath and yanking on the finger she had secure in her grip without warning.