What kind of fighting? The phrasing felt strange, though she guessed at least the gist of his question's meaning. Giving the facial equivalent to a shrug, Gretel gave the best answer she knew.
"Anything that gets the job done?" she said, turning a look up at him. "The things we hunted were fast, sometimes too fast to see. Their skin was often thick as tree bark- they hit like anvils, with their fists, feet, heads, or anything else they decide to throw. Sometimes actual anvils."
She couldn't help but chuckle colorlessly at the memory; a real ugly Sister Coven- one used her wand to hurl an anvil at Gretel's head- ended up decapitating her evil sibling when Gretel ducked.
"We'll do anything to take them out without getting too close, but that doesn't always go well. Plus, we weren't especially liked by regular townsfolk, either."