She inclined her head in a shallow nod, acknowledgement and thanks. It was an honest remark, but Hild did not feel it overly deserved, as she could never call herself a true archer. Stance was one thing, a copying of motions and little else. One only had to be observant, not skilled.

"I use staff," Hild said, then paused, searching her memory for the right word. "Quarterstaff. I have none here, but maybe one day I make." Perhaps one day she would figure out how to make one, but whereas a staff looked to be simply a staff in her day, something any might use without it being considered a weapon, a staff would stand out now, be more obviously to those around her than the knife at her belt.

"I have seax here." It occurred to her then to pull the short sword from its sheath now. A Shadowhunter warrior could appreciate it, and they had spoken long enough that he would not take it as a threat, she hoped.

The gray ray skin was more for comfort than for show, though its color and texture stayed truer than regular leather would. But the silver and copper inlay gleamed in the soft, warm light of the bookstore. Though it had cut a fair number of men, it was more ornament than instrument of war.