Skellig strongly wishes he had access to a bottle of vodka at the moment. If only to rinse the blade in, before he works it over her skin. But he keeps that comment to himself.

"I will try to be...efficient."

He lifts the blade from the table, and tests the way it handles in his fingertips - somewhat surprised at how easily he is able to control it, with a lack of discomfort in his grip. Moving closer, he places one hand on her chest, palm flat above her breast, beneath the arrow. With the other, he brings the blade to rest a breath above her skin, then looks at her.

A silent ask for permission to start the cut, to draw her blood.