"I know." Abigail said softly. She had used a knife when she defended herself against Nicholas Boyle. She hadn't needed to throw it. He'd been pushing her against a wall. She stuck out the knife and instinct took over. She'd gutted him. The same way she would a deer. Guilt had overtaken her afterwards. She'd never be certain if she'd done the right thing.
Abigail nodded, though she had a hard time imagining herself throwing a knife. Knives were personal, almost like using one's bare hands. She knew that thinking was also Hannibal's influence. Though he may be able to throw knives. She'd seen him do so much. "I just never want to find myself with a knife to my throat again." She admitted as she walked outside. "Not that I think you'd do that. Just in general."