"I don't need a weapon. I am one." Arthur -> John Silver @valiantsword
Silver has dealt with a lot of stubborn, intense, maybe even ignorant people lately. Granted, Arthur was far from ignorant, and seemed wise beyond his years (not that Silver knew how old the man was, he was simply going off of how he looked), but he sure was intense, and could be a touch stubborn.
So Silver lowers the flintlock pistol, putting it back in his own hostler. He had no attachment to his weapons, he wasn't like Bonny or Blackbeard. He wonders if Arthur is similar, or if was being literal. "Don't tell me you intend on bringing your fists to a gun and sword fight?" He sounds exasperated, staring at Arthur with as much intensity as he can muster on his own.
Of course, he didn't doubt that Arthur must have something. He's seen him with a sword, a fancy looking blade in fact, something that might come out of a storybook that his mother read him as a child. Silver sighs, pushing the memory back into his mind. Childhood was not the focus right now. Did he mean to imply the sword was apart of him? No, Silver wouldn't go as far as to try to pry into the mind of someone who was a fortress like Arthur. Flint was enough of a handful to keep up with, even if he did with ease.
"Regardless man, this fight we're coming in on, these traps we're setting...you'll need something my friend." He bites his bottom lip for a moment, thinking of how exactly he could convince the other man that there was some merit in having a flintlock or rifle, or anything even. Even something to create a smokescreen.