Tristan absentmindedly goes to pick up the axe from where it's planted. It's soaked in blood. It needs to be cleaned, or it will rust. It needs to be whetted, after going through flesh. 

Even the strongest weapons need to be maintained past their proving, and it's clear that Robena isn't in the presence of mind for it. That's fine. 

He carries it over to Constance and Mort - not as a weapon, but as a burden. He is, for a moment, very disgruntled he's not going to get the help slaying that badger he was promised, but he brushes that aside for now.

"Pendragon is still a necessary quarry?" He asks Constance. She seems like she'd know. She [i]always [/i]seems like she'd know. "Am I still called to hunt?"