Hunter: Lessons in Weapons

As quietly as I could, I went to get out of what seemed to be _his_ bed, but my foot landed on something cold. Yanking my foot off the floor, I peered down, and gaped. A knife. A knife. A KNIFE. A kid, my age, had a knife in his room? What the hell kind of twisted world WAS this?! Reaching down, I picked up the knife, gingerly, with two fingers. Feeling for a button, or something, I jerked when my fingers hit cold steel. Realizing that was the blade, I pulled on it, watching with a strange curiosity as the blade folded out, with a faint _click_.

Abrubtly I realized the snoring had stopped. Turning, I found myself immediately drawn to his eyes, which were studying intently the way I gripped the knife. "Is this your first time handling a knife?" I frowned at him. "Yeah, my mom never let me near any."

He snorted. "That's stupid. And you're holding it wrong." He got up slowly and came around the bed, sliding another knife out of his pocket. He unfolded it with ease, and then showed me the ways of the knife.