Elphaba slowly bit into a grape as he sung to his blades. He seemed rather involved with them. She guessed he'd have to be as a barbar, but she knew it was more than that. They were his method of defense, his avenue to revenge. She had to admit they were beautiful blades.
It took her a moment to decided if she should interrupt him or not. "They are exquisite," her voice was slow not really wanting to startle him, "What are they made from? How did you come by them?"