The merchant takes up the dagger, drawing blade from sheath so the steel may boast its finely-honed edge, its mirror-polish shine.
“You have a shrewd eye,” the merchant purrs. “There is nothing so comforting as a blade in uncertain times. And there’s no telling what you’ll find out there on your own.”
The merchant returns the blade to its sheath, the hilt coming to rest against the scabbard’s firm edge with a decisive clack!
“... Probably nothing as friendly as me.”