Dilari wouldn't say that she was particularly chatty. But there was being overly talkative, then there was... well, her companion. How they even signed up for jobs without saying anything was beyond the fae, but she wasn't one to really judge. People had to make a living and anyone in armor was more likely to take the frontline for her.
Which was perfect!
Dilari wasn't a coward, and she'd willingly take a hit for anyone of weaker constitution, but she was definitely no knight clad in armor. Rather, she was a short, green skinned fae in plant-appearing armor. She liked that she stood out, was quite proud of it, and didn't feel like she had any secrets to keep. If anyone wanted to judge her by what she was, so be it. They weren't anyone she wanted to be around then, nor anyone she was trying to impress.
She'd taken to walking alongside the caravan with one longspear in hand, a handful of easy to reach javelin strapped to her back, a bow tucked neatly in its quiver along side a set of arrows, and a spring in her step. No one had to guess what she was good at. What wasn't visible was the faint, magical aura that she could produce, should the need arise. For now, it was enough to keep everyone's spirits up and keep them moving throughout they day. If they didn't notice the extra pep in their step, that was fine. Her magic was often unnoticed since it was, well, not exactly overwhelmingly powerful.
When night fell, Dilari made herself useful by tending to the oxen team that pulled the wagon. Sturdy, well meaning animals that responded eagerly to her contact and happily to the proffered apples she gave them for a trip, so far, well-traveled. A quick brush down and she'd taken her place near the fire, where the patron of this particular journey had already started up dinner.
At least, by the smell, it seemed one of them was a good cook. All the better, because all she was good for was foraging roots, tubers, berries, and the occasional herb. If anyone wanted anything heated up, cooked, or made of protein, they'd best not look to her.
Dilari was passed a bowl, with thanks, before she stepped away to give the two men their privacy. It was obvious they knew one another and she didn't wish to encroach. Which put her with her mute traveling companion. Who, for the first time since Dilari had met them – her? – actually took of their helmet. For the longest time, the fae switched between taking small bites of her soup and glancing at the knight.
Did... If... If the helmet was off, did that mean she could talk? Halfway through her bowl, Dilari decided she'd try. Worst case, the knight would just stare at her and the message would be received. Loud and clear.
Clearing her throat softly, Dilari said softly, "So, I never did catch your name." Mostly because it had never been offered, but that was besides the point.