That was unusual. Had he just glimpsed that boy in the slaughterhouse with a knife? Shadow wouldn't have thought Robin to be the sort to have the guts to even attempt killing something. He allowed himself to be briefly surprised, then decided to go investigate, if only to watch him make an utter fool of himself. It was better entertainment than this heap of ice and rock provided on an average day, anyway. He trotted closer and threw open the slaughterhouse door behind Robin before the boy had a chance to go into the coop, in case the chickens made another escape attempt, and closed it promptly behind him. "Do you even know how to use those?" he asked dryly, tipping his head toward the butchering tools.
Robin turned quickly as the door opened, raising his eyebrows as the hedgehog stepped in. Robin didn't talk to Shadow very much; Shadow was not very... conversational. Social. Friendly. Nice.
Robin's eyes slid to the butchering tools. "In theory," he replied, his gaze returning to the hedgehog. "Why," he asked, arching one eyebrow, "do you?"
"Of course," he replied coldly. Not that he'd needed to do much butchering of animals for food, but a weapon was a weapon, and if anyone knew weapons, it was him.
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Robin's eyes slid to the butchering tools. "In theory," he replied, his gaze returning to the hedgehog. "Why," he asked, arching one eyebrow, "do you?"
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