Nothing more than anyone else's, except that I've still got it on my shoulders.

[ and all things considered, that's fairly impressive. but survival isn't a meritocracy.

miles' brows go up when she draws the sword, and he lets out a low, appreciative whistle, tracking the sword with his eyes until it's stuck in the ground between them. he peers at it with an appraising look. ]

I don't usually see galactics carrying swords, let alone anything this nicely crafted. I'll admit, I'm not much of an expert on heavier weapons like this, though, most of the swords you see on Barrayar are of a rather lighter construction... May I?

[ he glances up at her for her permission. can he look at your sword closer, gamora. can he touch it ]