"Frankly," the faun says, still aggressively cuddling Jon to be sure no rogue orcs made off with him, "I kinda feel like asking a blacksmith to throw together some cheapish hide armor like what suits me would be... almost insulting. When it comes time to get some really<span style="font-style: italic">good</span>, form-fitting armor? Then believe me I'll be knocking down your door." She says reassuringly.