Thane dully watched the fiery redhead who seemed to be taking his comments exceedingly poor. Some people were took very poorly to constructive criticism and, as always, Astrid was one of those people. When she first growled at him, enraged by his first statement. '[i]But I did, didn't I?[/i]' Thane thought, somewhat confused by her belligerent questions, perhaps he would have to speak up in the future, it appeared that the poor girl's ears didn't work. The girl then went on to start barking off factoids about her blade, including that she had cut herself several times on her blade, cause Thane to blow out a puff of air through his nose in amusement. 

"Poor thing can't even handle her own blades," Thane said softly, watching as the girl took a sword, leaned back and went about lobbing the damned thing at their cabin, the sword sloppily listing past Thane as it plummeted into the door. Thane's head dropped back as a soft groan poured out from his lips, his desire to deal with shit having already run dry after dealing with the son of Ares. Thane held up a single finger to Astrid, his pointer, to indicate that he wanted her to wait a moment, as he turned and walked toward his cabin. He took the blade by the grip and yanked it out of the door, spinning it in his hand, his fingers nimbly dancing along the hilt and the pommel as the blade spun in his hand. He took a quick glance back at the crowd, opening the door as he did so, and slipped inside, letting the blade slide from his hand and plummet blade down into the floorboards before the door. He'd have to patch up the damage to his cabin later tonight once the crowd outside died down.

He slowly drifted through the cabin, finding his door which he opened with a sharp turn of the knob. The door glided open, revealing his room. The arrangements were immaculate, his bed properly dressed, his bookshelves filled and dusted, the pile of books that was nearly as high as the bookshelf standing next to the shelf organized by size. He homed in on his desk which was home to his pen, a small device of silver and gold, and his latest journal. He had just under a dozen journal sitting on atop his bed, each filled with every intimate thought that crossed his mind during the day. If he didn't have business to attend to, he would've taken this chance to fill up a page or two for today's events alone. His fingers danced along pages, stopping on an unblemished page which he ripped from his journal, making a note to trim up the blemish it left near the spine later as well.

When Thane reappeared to the small crowd that [b]had[/b] to be gathered outside of his home, he waved the paper in the air briefly, ripping the blade up from the floorboards and dropped down into a crouch, placing the paper onto the ground. Carefully, Thane placed the sword down atop it, placing the hilt just beyond the edge of the paper and stood, stepping back and looking down. As if on cue, a gust of wind surged past, blowing the paper free. Thane's lips pressed together and his puffed his cheeks slightly with air and raised his eyebrows, giving a shrug. He picked up the blade, looking it over slightly before stepping away from his cabin, toward the girl. "My apologies. It seems that I was overconfident in the uses of your swords. Perhaps they'll make fine scrap for future projects." Thane said softly to the girl's face, dropping the blade flatly on the ground besides them. He turned his back toward her, giving a wave over his shoulder to the agitated girl.