Kankri balks at being told to take a knife, but what she's saying makes sense. There's plenty of uses for a blade that don't involve hurting people.

First, though, he struggles into the armor she gives him - and then glances up at her, worried. "What about you? You're already hurt, you should get some kind of protection."

Now he goes to the case with the knives, lifting them out gingerly one by one to find the sturdiest and sharpest one. He doesn't want to hurt people. He's not going to hurt people. But he might as well have the best knife he can for whatever he needs a knife for.

Not that he knows much about knives anyway, but oh well. There's a spot on the cumbersome leathery chest plate to hang a knife from, so gingerly he does just that. There.

"Okay," he says. "What next?"