"Oh yeah?" Hawk asked with interest. "What do you get?"

"Boiling," Numair replied.

"Boiling..." Hawk repeated, but Numair didn't elaborate. "...Water? Oil?"

"I do not know. Just boiling."

"Wull what's that s'posed to mean?" Hawk wanted to know, bewildered. "Is that bad??"

Numair shrugged. "I could mean any number of things," he said. "I don't know. Difficult to say, without more context."

Hawk took a drink. Numair, seeing the look on his face, added dryly, "Not everyone is as easy to read as you are, you know."

"No, it's just--if I get the machete back...do you trust the Treiha to, y'know..." Hawk waved his bandaged hand, trying to find the words, "...follow up on it?"

"Hm." Numair reflected for a moment. "I think so."

"You think so??"

"People do surprise me at times," Numair told him. "But they have a reputation for keeping law enforcement on a tight leash, so I think it's our best option."

"If you're sure...then let's do it." Hawk got to his feet, frowning. "I'll get the machete."

Numair looked up at him with a wan smile. "Er...are you well enough?" he asked gently. Hawk did look slightly uncomfortable.

"I'm fine," he said anyway.