"Relax, its only nine blades. Besides, the eight knifes don't even take up much space." While talking, he seems to have a perfect British gentleman type posture with a hand held out almost like Shakespeare.
He turns to face Cassiopeia. "Why what?" The way his face looks and how he spoke brings up the thought that he didn't even register that he even said anything.
Cassiopeia skips farther and farther into the woods until she finds the lake again with water as black as ink. "I knew I still remembered where it was..."