The Boneyard is presumably not described as a bunch of coppiced trees, looking out into less cultivated forest in one direction and a field of potatoes in the other.

It is not! She is confused about that! Did she - teleport? Spontaneously? That's not a thing. 

She stands there for a minute trying to calm down about being attacked by a demon in her study and maybe dead. Probably not dead. It would be easier to calm down if she were more sure, in either direction. 

Then she should - head off towards the potato field, if there's a field there are some farmers and she can ask them where she is.

The farmer isn't out right now. It's cloudy, and while she's walking it starts raining pretty hard; she can make out a blurry farmhouse through the weather. Ten minutes of tromping through rain and potatoes sees her to it.

She is pretty sure it doesn't rain in the Boneyard.

She knocks.

Somebody calls back in an unfamiliar language and doesn't come to the door right away. The house is made of logs, the windows are shuttered, the roof is wood shingle, there's a couple of outbuildings and a big draft horse of a breed she doesn't recognize and what's probably a chicken coop.

Presently the occupant comes to the door; he's a big healthy-looking fellow, dark skinned and black haired. He says something that continues to be in an unfamiliar language.

She has Tongues, she uses it in the evenings mostly, but - "Do you know any Taldane?"

Foreign foreign foreign?

Yeah, fine. She casts Tongues. Steps back and gestures at herself so as to hopefully be minimally scary. "Sorry," she says six seconds later. "I got here in some kind of magical accident and I don't know where I am."

"...hoo boy," is his response. "Uh... yikes. This is... my farm... the round is called Snakeseye."

"The...round?"

"The round," he repeats, slowly and clearly. "That we're on."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what that word means. It might be the translation spell. Is a round an...island? A county?"

"Your translation spell," he repeats incredulously. "The round is the ball of rock flying through the sky. Snakeseye is a colony of Ivory."

"We're on a floating island?" The other interpretation is that by 'round' he means planet but how would one of those be a colony of another, you couldn't possibly administer it -

"It's not an island, this round doesn't have any big lakes."

"Okay. Sorry. A big floating - rock. That is a colony of ...another place that is also a round? Or a place that is something else?"

"Ivory is the name of the round and also the country."

In the Elemental Plane of Air there are occasional floating rocks? Not that it makes a lot more sense for her to be in the Elemental Plane of Air than anywhere else but at least the physics is known to be the kind that would support this setup. 

"Are there any places that you know of that are not rounds, or on rounds?"

"...ships," he says exasperatedly. "I guess once I read a reasonably diverting short story about a couple rounds crashing into each other and not being very round after that."

- nod. "I...think I am very far from home. May I stay here until the storm passes? I can do mending, and light that doesn't burn any oil, and I could do horses to help in the fields, in the morning, if you have fields that need horses to work them."

"You can... do horses? What, make them? It's enough work feeding this one, not worth it to get the fields plowed sooner. You can come in but don't make any sudden moves, all right, I don't know what-all you're like but I have a guess." He steps aside. "I'll find some old clothes that could use patches if you're offering."

"Yeah, sure. You don't have to feed magic horses, they only last a little part of a day." She comes in. 

"Oh, well, if they're magic," he says, rolling his eyes and shutting the door behind her. He gestures her into a wooden chair at the kitchen table. It thunders outside. He goes and rummages in a cupboard and comes up with a coat, frayed at the hem and torn at the elbow, and a pair of socks worn out at the heels.

She casts Mending. It's a cantrip. She's supposed to do laundry and mending for her unit, laundry and mending and loyalty checks and she can use them for enchantment practice.

He drops a needle and thread on the table too without looking very closely and turns back to what he was working on before, now - apparently he has a batch of cottage cheese in progress. The door opens and in comes a teenage boy, also dark but slighter. He lets himself in and drops a wet basket full of eggs on the table. "Who's this?" he asks.

"Didn't give her name. Might have, ah, skipped that step," mutters her host, like he's euphemizing something rude.

"Oh my."

"She said she'd do the mending while keeping out of the rain."

"All right, I did like that coat. Hey there, I'm Cachion, that's Dayr."