[Dutch takes the crossbow and set down his croissant, immediately feeling its heft and balance, holding it up to look through its sights. It isn't much different, it seems, to a long gun, in terms of use. It would certainly be a surprise to whoever she's looking to take out. Rifles are loud - and sometimes that worked to an advantage - but this. This is a fine weapon for stealth.]

Whoever you're lookin' to deal with, you gotta deal with quietly.

[Or so he surmises with her choice of weapons. He hands the crossbow back and slides out his knife from its sheath at his waist, just behind the silver-plated, pearl-handled Schofield that it matches. It's a clean, well maintained, very balanced hunting knife, decorated with Art Nouveau work at the flat of its blade. He hands it over after a flourish to turn it handle-side towards her.]

One of my sons, he's quite fast with his knives. Learned to use 'em well before I found him and took him in. He's deadlier with handguns now, but that don't mean he lost any fire with a blade. Another of my group, he prefers throwin' knives and long bows. Big feller, too, but one of the stealthiest men I've ever known.

Actually, come to think of it, I think you'd like most of 'em. Strong'n deadly, willin' to fight for the freedom to do as we please. You don't seem the type to much appreciate societal norms.

[Just look at what she's got where she's staying.]