Shit... [ richie breathes out the word before he can stop himself, admittedly impressed by the collection and feeling a little self-conscious about his tiny pocketknife now.

still, there's something to be said for the fact that instead of using that collection to knife him and steal all his stuff and be on her merry little way, claire had offered him a trade. his hands lightly ghost across the grips of the knives on display before finally settling on the one made entirely of silver. not that he knows it's silver, of course, he only knows enough about knives to avoid cutting himself with his own, but something about it draws him in, even has he pulls his hand back towards his lap in an effort not to appear too eager over the deal. ]

Wow, unhelpful locals, I'm just. Shocked. Astonished. Confounded, even. [ he says in a voice that very much suggests the opposite. ]

You're really just gonna give me a knife if I give you some food?