Cid just won't comment on the fact that most people would toss a kitchen knife in their impossibly roomy packs in some sort of scabbard, because at this point, he's most interested in what else the lad's going to pull out of his bag of tricks.

And of course Cid chances to take a bite. He happens to fear nothing, except not finding tobacco here, but that can wait. It's been weeks, he can hold off a few hours more.

He doesn't even usually like fruitcake.

"Not half bad."