Gives him ... that's a shiv. Hold onto that for me until the guards complete their inspection: is what Riddick doesn't say, but conveys in a chin-tip thataway.
Give my muse an item and see how they react!
Edward doesn't make a sound as he carefully tucks the improvised weapon up his sleeve. It's a gesture that's completed in the time it takes to lock eyes with Riddick, something that takes Edward aback with how bright the other prisoner's eyes are, even in the dismal lighting of this place. He shuffles away awkwardly as they break apart for inspection. The weight of the shiv nestled against his wrist feels like a brick despite its tiny size but Riddick had chosen wisely; Edward wasn't considered a risk for weapons. His thin frame and penchant for puzzles and mind games meant larger, more physically intimidating inmates were the priority, and Edward is only given a brief check before his inspector seemed satisfied. The relief is instantaneous but short-lived. Edward didn't like people. He especially didn't like people he didn't know but Riddick seemed... savvy somehow, like he was used to a life behind bars. Somebody like that could prove useful. Particularly if Edward could prove himself trustworthy first. The shiv, still hidden up his sleeve suddenly feels a lot lighter, as though anticipating its eventual return to Riddick and already Edward is brimming with ideas, to find a way to get the imposing man's ear when he came to collect his weapon.
