"I'm a messy gardener." Which is really just her way of saying she doesn't mind making the mess. Johanna sits back, lifting her shirt to wipe at the stains on her cheek and exposing a strip of skin at her stomach in the process. When she's fairly certain she's got most of it off, she takes in the man as if he's a potential threat.

Everyone is, no matter how charming or kind or seemingly insignificant. They're all threats. "I can help," she offers. "I mean, if you wanted help." Maybe she can learn something about this place in the process.