[he'd have every intention of ignoring another presence entirely if it made this go quicker and smoother; this guy doesn't exactly look like he needs help, judging from the silver gleam of a weapon that catches his eye well before anything else noteworthy about the man, the danger of it prickling at his skin in a way that tells him only to be cautious]

[the last time he ran into someone who liked knives gave him a few scars, but that situation and this one are entirely removed from one another; nothing shows on his face — mismatched eyes staying steady as he opens the knife and runs his thumb parallel to the blade, testing its sharpness]

Use it. [simply, giving a glance over, only just taking in a face with one eye covered, with no curiosity or surprise at what might be missing]

To section bandages or open canned food or whatever else I need to use it for. [there's an incredulity there that he has to explain the countless uses of a pocket knife, so instead he nods to the machete — ] What are you going to do with that?