Dove shrugged, too relieved to have gotten away with the prank to bite her tongue further. "We - get a lot of knights like that out here," she said, keeping her voice soft and picking her words carefully. "All work, no play. Maybe it's something caught from all the scarecrows in the fields. Those really do have a - long stick - up the backside." She knew perfectly well that there was at least one scarecrow dressed up as a knight, but she didn't think the time to point that out was when she was surrounded by the knights themselves. She shrugged again, and eased her way over to the wall, where she sat down and rubbed her bruised knee to ease the ache. "I don't know how much it helps get their job done. I'm just a farmer, after all."
Her personal opinion of knights and the knighthood was not at all flattering, but she didn't know this squire, and she wasn't about to risk sparking something dangerous. Last time she'd spoken her mind or tried to help a squire it had led to an invaded house, implicit threats, and a screaming match, and once was enough for her where that was concerned. Her mouth tightened at the memory, and she tried to relax and twist it into something approaching a smile. "You should be careful about asking a farmer for mercy," she said instead, with an awkwardly abrupt change of topic. "You might wind up being used as a packhorse to carry sacks of turnips...or worse." She spread her arms in a gesture half mocking, half jesting, and totally reminiscent of an overloaded donkey wobbling across rough ground. "The fields can always use a bit of extra manure, and it has to get out there somehow..."