[Scissors? In a holster? The confusion is brief across his face, a flicker extinguished by the reminder that he doesn't care about this girl or what she's lost — and in the current predicament, there's little in him left to even feel annoyance. He eases back into muted numbness with no effort at all.

Better than rage, after what he did to Laurent. And how he'd almost gone as far with this girl on their last encounter. He's dangerous; he shouldn't linger here too long.]

I'm not asking to enter so long as we find what belongs to us. [Meanwhile, he'll keep a lookout for the sprites, since that would be an easier source of interrogation.] This sort of mischief tells me that the main goal is torment in continued company. It would make sense if my weapon is somewhere among your other personal items. Let's go.