Going hunting

Back at the village, Finrod conversed with a blacksmith over the prospect of getting new knives and arrows. He was down by a lot and that made him feel vulnerable, naked to the hunger of monsters that might want to feed on him.

"Can you make them or not?" He asked rather coldly, furrowing his brows and taking quite an unfriendly look.

The young fat blacksmith replied rather casually, ignoring his countenance, it looked like he had done this thousands of times that it was natural to him, "Of course I can, most of my blacksmith skills are leveled up considerably and nobody in the village can match me with experience."

Finrod remained silent waiting for the man to finish his statement, he exuded a menacing outlook as he wasn't in the best of moods.