Fyroh noticed the sword, and jumped back. He was frantically looking for the culprit when he heard the voice. He smiled, recognising the sword and voice. He picked it up. "Katanas are over-rated." he muttered to himself, wishing he had gone to his house and brought his comfortable viking sword. A katana didn't suit his fighting; unlike most fighters, he relied on a mixture of strength and a little speed, which was quite the opposite of most battlers he knew. He also never quite understood how people managed to wield them in one hand. Must be lighter models, or shorter, he thought. A standard blade suited him well enough. However, swords shouldn't be on his mind now; he looked back to Saphir. He wanted to apologise, but couldn't bring himself to. His mind back on the katana, he tried sheathing it at his belt but it scraped the ground. He pondered how he should sheath it, or whether he should even bother taking it.