[He was going to really have to recommend someone work on the kid's nerves because that kind of jumpiness got a man killed in the field. And Grant was going to the field whether the little bastard wanted to or not; no son of his was going to live a pathetic life when there was a cause to be put towards. However, recruitment would come after recommendation.

He noted the reaction and shook his head, taking another drag of his cigarette, looking the kid over.]

You got a name, or am I going to have to resort to 'Hey you' for the duration of me standing at the end of this bench lookin' at you?

[He smirked at the corner of his lips and reached to his belt, slipping a wicked looking combat knife from his belt and twirling it expertly between his fingers. It spun around until the blade came to rest in his palm and the black leather hilt pointed towards the kid.]

A kid like you is only so good as the skills he picks up. You want to learn how to use a knife to defend yourself? [He offered the hilt towards Grant, wanting to see if the kid had the guts and the will to actually do it.]