The elf's eyes remained flicking between the knife and the Collector, his thumbs running alongside the flat edge of it. He was leaving, and here Attikias remained, his feet planted on the ground.

"Thank you," he muttered with a short bow of his own, before returning with another tilt of his head.

Good luck? He returned to studying the blade, turning it over and over again in his palms. Good luck to the hunt, he assumed- but the Collector had his ways of making things rather ominous. It was if the knife could have some drawbacks to it?

... Nah. It was but a knife, with magic applied to it- magic that was nothing like he'd heard before.

What now, though? Attikias hesitated on his next move, looking about his surroundings, noticing a key difference; the Collector was gone as quick as he'd arrived. Whatever magic he had was odd. Much different than what the elf could do.

Giving himself a moment for it all to sink in, Attikias took one step back while his arms relaxed. He should make a better way to carry this- leather would work? But- ah, would it cut through that? He did need some more leather anyways. He could practice his new gift this way, then.

His head dropped as he gathered himself back up, quiet as he folded the bag back closed and readjusted his strap. With nowhere to store the dagger- not while he was still somewhat in a minute shock with it- he begun to make the trek back home.

Would Azizos approve of this weapon he'd gotten? He had been eating more fruit lately, but this aligned with his theories and practices of honoring the dead he ate and used. Killing a sapient being though? The brothers didn't need to know about that. That was his quest, and his alone.

And alone he walked, his tail idly swaying as he continued to study his new weapon with short swipes and explorations of every facet it held. All on the way back to his- and its- home.