A small thunk on wood, trying to get the peach pit off the blade after he'd sliced into it a little too deep. The big seed disappears somewhere off the table, a problem for future Guts after he finishes chopping peaches.

"Why the hell would she want to do that?" he snorts at the idea. "What a lousy dream. She'd be better off with some performers or a band of thieves. At least that kind of crowd would take her seriously."

Guts understood the wandering allure of the battlefield, but it was the only place and purpose he'd ever known. Nerine had people here that cared for her. She had this cozy, sleepy little village in a hidden, peaceful forest. She didn't have to throw her life away for no reason. She could go find excitement some other way.

"Besides, she doesn't want some fancy noble's armor. That's a shiny target for any merc hoping for a big payday."

A hostage, or worse, when they realize they caught some other nobody like them.