"I wasn't going to keep it," Quentin insists, handing it over with one last lingering touch to the handle before handing it over properly. "It's just a very nice sword."

He's probably already mentioned that, but it bears repeating. Quentin stuffs his now empty hands in to his pockets and tilts his head with a small smile. "Are you going to go look for pants now? Oh. Hey, maybe someone is wearing them?"

"On second thought, no. Probably not. No one would wear some stranger's pants that were just lying around, right? That's not a thing people do?"