[He noted the motion, mind already ten steps ahead and in the midst of a quick plan of steps and strikes to disarm her. It took him a moment to blink and push away the thoughts, remind himself that she wasn't a target and for the moment, he wasn't Siberian. There were no orders for her life and he wouldn't kill outside of missions. Smiling faintly, he loosened his hands and let the blades retreat back into the gloves as his stance relaxed.]

Thanks. They're called bagh nahks. My weapon of choice, even though I'm pretty proficient with firearms, too.