"Don't." He twists away from Nux's stubborn peering, backs off a little more. Shoes scuffing in the dirt. "These daggers are for danger, for protecting people. They... they're special. They belong to my friends."

His stern tone becomes more anxious in the face of such excitable persistence. Will it help to explain why, exactly why? It might—but what if it doesn't? He can't make him forget, not here, miles from anywhere safe, left all alone in the deepening dark... "Please, I don't want them to hurt you."