Whatever she asked him sounded like 'combatant' in Common, and her progressively adorable pantomime told him what she was curious about just as well. If they'd shared a language, he might've reassured her - I kill mostly bad people now, that sort of thing. But language barrier aside, she didn't look as if she'd shrink or scream if he brandished a weapon. What she looked was interested.

Holding aside his plate with one hand, his other very slowly, very carefully moved to slide Whisper from its place at his side, just in case she felt differently about a naked edge than a sheathed one. The steel dagger was rather long and slim as he exposed it, with a tapering point. A faintly iridescent white line curled around the handle, some trick of the light causing it to seem to move slightly when one began to take their eyes away from it, though it seemed entirely still again once it had attention.

Vax'ildan first showed her his stabbing grip, then his hand shifted with amazing fluidity to demonstrate a throwing grasp. Indulging himself just a bit, he turned his face to smile at the woman. He spun the dagger end over end, several feet into the air above his hand, and caught the handle back up again as it fell. Show-off, he could hear his sister muttering, even from a world away.