"Thank God for that," Dan says, coming to a stop. He's lost whatever it was that shot him, and he doesn't consider that Branch could be the source of the tiny arrow for more than a half-second. The arrow isn't the right size, but more than that, it just doesn't seem in keeping with Branch's character. Branch antagonizes with painful traps out of terror, not mischief, and that issue has largely been addressed as Branch has settled in and had autonomy and resources.

"I just don't want no one to think I'm ignorant on purpose," he says, unsure why he's just blurting things out. Normally he keeps his ignorance fairly under wraps, and more than that, he keeps his self-consciousness about it quiet. Nothing's less sexy than someone being insecure, especially when it's something they could change about themselves, but Dan isn't about to learn to read. That's a hard pass. He'll never share the love for archives and tomes and the written word, never will try to, and never will want to open up the conversation as to why he's committed to staying in the dark on certain things - which makes it so strange that it's so close to the surface, like it's not even words he's saying, like it's just thoughts he's drooling out.

There's a beat as he realizes what's happened. He holds the blood-tinged arrow out in his palm, then tucks it into his pocket and wipes off his hands with a handkerchief.

"Err, careful. Someone's running around taking shots at folks with these little arrows, and if it's big enough to draw blood on me it could be dangerous for you." He keeps scanning around for the threat, but can't seem to see anything. "Let me know if you want a bodyguard until the hooligan's caught."