Merrilee drops the back of the wagon when addressed, it impacting the ground with a heavy thunk. The wood is solid, though, and holds through the impact, just being loud. After wincing from the sound, she turns toward the newcomer. The first thing she's struck by is how large and armored he is. The armor is a bit intimidating, like a big ol'...armored...bear? Or something, but once she gets past that, being large means strong, and better able to help! The second thing is the wagon. Not the armored part, but the fact that it has six wheels. Now that would be a sound idea! Maybe she could have a third set of wheels added to hers, then one going out wouldn't be such a big deal.
But where are her manners? He's just offered to help, and she's just standing there looking at him and his wagon. She fumbles for her slate, which is of course in her wagon. Right. She hops over to the front of her wagon where the door in is and jumps up to pull the door open. Then again because she missed the first time. It would be easier, but the front end is suspended in the air. After a couple tries, she gets it open and then jumps in, grabbing the slate and a piece of chalk from where they'd fallen to the floor.
Her communicative implements in hoof, she hops back out and rushes out to the newcomer, where she waves and stops a few feet in front of him to scribble out a message.
[Hi Im' Merriele, and my wgano wehels, broek and teh alex!]
She squints at the lines after finishing, hoping they're all in the proper order, then holds the chalkboard up for the stallion to see, smiling in a friendly way.
Until a loud chirping took her attention away, leaving her looking around perplexed for the source of it. She flinches, dropping the chalk and board, at the sound of the wood breaking. The impact lets loose the latches holding her shelves and "Merry Ornaments" sign in, and they unfold, like she's open with no merchandise as they're bare. She dashes to the other side of the wagon, her chub jiggling with the motion, to peer at the peculiar thing sticking out of her wagon. She ignores the second whistle and looks at the strange metal...bird half? Who makes half a bird? Or wait, the rest is probably sticking through.
She almost reaches out to touch it before another stallion comes out of the woodwork, looking like he could probably use a shower and/or a laundromat before a spark sets him on fire. She backs away from the bird to watch what he does and process it all. What he's saying makes no sense to her, and she doesn't have the wherewithal to ask him. She glances between him and the other pony when the green one falls to the ground after failing to get the bird-statue-thing out, and she finally has the presence of mind to dash back to grab her slate and chalk.