"That's..." Devika struggled for a polite word. "Well, really impressive, that you managed to teach yourself such a skill. You should be proud of that." She winced inwardly - not the best interaction. She could tell Roxy was getting tense, and so she moved off the subject. "If you're willing to teach me this, I should teach you something in return. I'm not sure what, though. You don't seem the type to sit and knit, so... maybe cooking? It's a good skill to have in any case. Everyone's got to eat."

Devika was on an entire separate train of thought while she spoke. What kind of strange father gave her daughter a weapon, but no instruction? It was a modern age, to be able to defend yourself wasn't unexpected. Heck, her own parents had signed her up for self-defense classes when she'd been younger. But it just struck her as so odd. However, she wasn't going to say a word about it. Call it empathy, or call it common sense, but she had a feeling that question had land mines behind it.