The shield's gratefully accepted. He's had enough of those blighted buggers trying to mess with them.

"Copy that. All this magic stuff is beyond me." He was trying to work on changing that, though. Fox had promised. Regardless, he still had a few blades about him, thanks to Eleven, and Lily. The knives had been a blessing during the attack on the farmstead, and the longer blade Lily had magicked out of a fire poker had held together well enough. He'd been keeping them all clean and sharp, though the lack of a proper sheath for any of them was a pain.

But that was the kind of grumbling you kept to yourself unless you knew the trooper you were talking to. So, he might as well properly introduce himself. "Sergeant Slick, formerly Grand Army of the Republic. Wanted to give my thanks for the assistance from your lot." He gestures toward the rest of the traveling party. "this caravan's almost all civvies. They mean well,"--mostly--"but they're not organized. Even just getting a head count is like pulling teeth."