Claire was by no means a prude or a killjoy or any of the multitude of personality traits that could ruin a party under the right circumstances, but she did have the annoying habit of thinking like a nurse at the most inopportune times. She had noticed the fellow, quite obviously on his way to drunk and she surely wished him well in his adventures, and had also noticed the sword at his side. Of course, he was in no way brandishing the thing like a fool and therefore she could reason that there was no danger imminent, but... But...

"Okay, so, real talk," she started when she'd drawn up beside the fellow. "I've stitched up a shitton of drunks in my time, and it's made me paranoid when I see one with a sharp and/or pointy object. You're leaving the sword alone for the evening, right?" She smiled at him hopefully. "No duels or anything like that?"