What if she whips out a knife and uses her own blood for magic? Not that she's going to do that right now. Probably.

"Oh! Well, if you don't mind..." Plenty would probably warn her about the possibility of a trap, but Merrill isn't really the suspicious sort. Not without reason, at least, and so she finishes her way forward. "Ma serannas, Rifter." A pause. "Oh, though that's probably very rude! I'm sorry; my name is Merrill."