Erin sits with that for a good while, thinking with a slight frown on her face. This isn't like some of the other youngbloods, failed by a modern world that at least knows enough to pretend to be ashamed. Someone put Dimitri in the halls of power, fed him food stolen from serfs (all but slaves), raised him to kill, and then let him. That he feels this torn-up about it is incredible, a wonder of many worlds, but just telling him that...

...Well, you don't need a sword to cut, do you Peters?

Slowly she crouches down, resting on her own heels to be at Dimitri's level, still holding the knife. Erin slides the weapon across the floor in his direction, nice and easy.

"Could you use that to build a boat?" she asks, emphasizing 'that'. "What do you suppose it might demand of its wielder, to be used that way?"