[ Yeah he knows he isn't agreeing. He's going to keep not agreeing. He makes some gruff sound, rolling his eyes, a slight backward roll of one shoulder as if just to go with it -- but that movement doesn't stop there as he twists around, heading right for the knife still buried in a nearby tree. The movement is quick and practiced and precise, he's always been more about speed and skill than strength, believe it or not.

Somewhere in moving over he kicks something up off the ground, and after he grabs the knife and turns back around he catches it in midair -- and hurls the acorn right for Byerly's nose. Throwing knives is incredibly silly. Roll out of the way or get up, he still doesn't have a real gauge of how good you are. ]

You'll hide behind me. [ Just standing there, now, spinning the knife again, it's nice to have that idle comfort back. ] There isn't exactly another way for me to actually guarantee you won't be hurt.

Just act pathetic and beg for mercy and forgiveness a bunch. Seems in character.