"Yeah," Cathy agrees with a grin, handing the sheath over. "They're nice."

"Trowa," she asks, a worried note to her voice, though instead of turning she stands on her tiptoes to see the rest of the booth over by the salesman better (he's ignoring them. Cathy has dragged Trowa over here enough for window shopping that he's realized he ahould just leave them alone). "Do you see the set I was looking at?