Guts quickly gets over the girl's antics by the time they make it back to the infirmary. Weapon or not, it was nice to have a stroll outside in the cool air. The breeze he misses almost immediately as he gets hit with stuffy scents of an enclosed space.

"How'd you have time to run back here and go get treats?" he asks incredulously, looking at the poorly-hidden sword under the sheets. So she hadn't been taking him for a fool, after all. Guts had an idea for how to store it more securely, but first he wanted to examine what it is she brought from the forge.

Unwrapping a bit of the cloth where he can feel the hilt, Guts pulls a few inches of bright steel free of its scabbard. The edge looked good. The handle was a little more elegant than the riveted metal and fabric on his preferred weapon. The blade was on the smaller side for him, but that was perfect for keeping it hidden. This would do wonders for his nerves.

He doesn't stare for too long, resheathing the sword and parting the linen of the mattress where it was stuffed with straw. He slips the sword inside near the bottom, sandwiched between layers of thin fibers, where it was least likely to be discovered while they changed the sheets. All he had to do to pull it free was reach inside.