Golden bones. The dirty puns and filthy limericks wrote themselves in the bard's mind as she observed the villager helping to clean the woman up. Peony had noticed that clothing seemed positively passé here. Unsurprising, given how much people were fucking but still, Archie would have dragged her off with his hands over her eyes were he here.

How curious that she required assistance in healing though. Unless this was some manner of a religious rite; beat your cleric to make your Gods happy? With a keen investigatory eye, Peony observed the lack of wound. Perhaps it was someone else's blood? Yes. This had tones of some religious something or other she had no place in.

"You have my sincerest apologies for intruding on your ritual, Lady Deathwarden, but I must implore you to listen to me, as none other have heard my words so far." Her tone was deferent but urgent. "I am Peony, beloved champion of Lady Titania, Queen of the Summer Fey and I am afraid I must demand hospitality of you."

Yes, this blonde waif of a dot, stood in borrowed clothing and the freshness of new arrival, dared to demand. Audacity was a dear friend of hers.