Isobel was on the verge of doing something drastic (along the lines of screaming or punching this guy in the face) when her savior arrived. She raised her eyebrows slightly at the guy who had come to her rescue. "Well, damn. Thanks for looking. I probably left it at home." She sighed dramatically, and tried not to laugh as she overheard what he told the man holding on to her arm. She was definitely going to have to make an investment in some mace after this."
As soon as the drunk's fingers loosened, she pulled her arm back and moved to stand behind her dearest brother. She made a point to replace her slightly bewildered, yet amused look with that of a wild, mischievous smirk to hopefully give some sort of credit to his story. "Beyond ready. Lets go."
She started to move towards the exit, weaving her way through the crowd of people. The moment they were out of earshot of the drunk man, she turned to her rescuer. She smiled, and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "Thank you, for that. It's like the creeps can smell out pissed off girls who got ditched by their friends."