Common drinks and strange acquaintances

I R I S Iris observed the Fae, trying to pinpoint the exact feature that would help formulate a clear answer to her question. Would she start by pointing out that the glares she was sending out in all directions were only attracting more attention, instead of deterring it? That the way she kept glancing behind her shoulder smelled of fear? Or the fact that she refused to sit down, as if it would leave her exposed to attack? Iris could bet that while the locals were surprised by the appearance of a Fae, they were eyeing her scars and weighing the possibilities. Was the thing making the stranger nervous something of value? Did the fidgeting indicate an easy target? ”Never mind.” She waved the question off, before the butterfly surprised her with a hint of humor. Iris returned the Fae's smile, "I'm learning already." She sipped her drink, glancing at the bar's nosier patrons. ”So, what do you do back in the Greatwood? Are you a general? A warden?”