Uhn. [He nods this, and having only brought his sword and sense—shimmering, white and gold nodachi sheathed—his precious blade at more than half his height, he doesn't appear the least on edge while trailing along in silent step, eagerly scanning their new surroundings first. Frost revealed as anticipation... thin ice blooming across his palm and curling fingers laced with diamond's dust. Sharp eyes sweeping up grass to sky before wandering back to Jean instead, curious gaze affixed to both his swords.
no subject
His words come opened now, mildly—]
What do you call those swords you brought?
[Getting used to him!]