faith be my shield

Samuel Tell me little dear if you've only lived here, have you ever really lived at all? At the sound of his name Sam turned towards the door, his one right hand finger trailing off the blade he had been inspecting. Remi was one of the very few people he was happy to see at the moment, especially after how wounded he had been; he still seemed stiff, hurt, but alive and walking. Also, he knew Remi wouldn't yell at him. "Yes, I do. I..." He looked back to the weapons and took in a breath, trying to work out the best phrasing. "I thought...after what happened outside and a few times before, when I've been in fights...I...need something to protect myself with. To fight with." Just saying the words felt wrong to him, but it was an unfortunate truth of his life now. "Of course...with my hand like this, I might struggle to find something." Sam admitted, lifting his right hand. "But I thought I could look. ....It distracts me from...well, everything, too."