When the distance between both was swallowed enough that Perendi could get a decent look at the other individual, her eye widened, eyebrow arching in surprise. Unless she's just small, she's a child! She thought; the newcomer was a young-looking redhead, cute in the strange way that a little puppy was and far more scantily-clad than any fighter should have been. Something was quite strange about this predicament; no one so young should have been proclaiming that the monster should have been her kill. As far as the mercenary was concerned, the girl should have been at home somewhere, enjoying the remainder of her childhood, without a care in the world.
Unaware of whether the girl would understand her attempts at communication or not, she shrugged and shifted her stance, lifting her arms so her hands could dance in a series of swift, complex signs and gestures that, if the other could comprehend their meaning, would illustrate: "Go home, kid. You shouldn't be out here on your own." Her expression as she attempted to communicate such a sentiment was warm, open and curious: "What are you trying to do, anyway?"
However, as the girl pulled a battleaxe out of... Shit, did she just take that out of her own skin? the shadowy mercenary slid one foot behind the other and flexed her knees, reaching over her shoulder to unsheath her war-hammer, falling into a defensive stance. She wasn't going to throw the first strike, but it didn't mean she'd stand there and allow herself to be sliced up a little by a strange girl with an axe-- far from it. She smiled wryly, lightly gripping her hammer's shaft in one hand while the girl began questioning her. It all depends on what your definition of a bad guy is. Rather than trying to sign that thought, she would simply shrug and shake her head slightly, though not outright denying the possibility that she might have been a villain: "What's your idea of a bad guy?" Was the unspoken question.
As the girl continued to question her, Perendi reached for a rope twice; simply to truss Featherjaw up with, but changed her mind both times. It would have been much easier to try and communicate with at least one hand free, rather than waving a coiled length of rope around like some sort of idiot. She would pull a silver coin out of her pouch and flip it into the air as a means of answering the girl's first question: "I killed Featherjaw because I need the money and the villagers wanted it gone." A negating shake of her head was given in reply to the question about the monster's death being part of some sort of ritual; her smile growing a bit wider. If nothing else, this teen was certainly curious- a trait that could not be faulted by any stretch of the imagination.
A finger would be pointed at the girl, followed by a pointed look downward at the creature's corpse, then another shrug: "Why were you after Featherjaw?"