Peter can't tell if she's turned off by him or he smells funny - the nose crinkle could go either way 'cause you never know with these aliens. Some of them have some seriously off-the-wall senses of smell.

At least it sounds like they have a shared interest in the whole survival thing. All bets are off down the line but Peter files that away as something to worry about later: right now he just wants to get through the next five minutes without getting shanked by glass...or whatever else she might have stashed away where he can't see. His eyes track the knife, the smile not moving from his face. Moment he looks concerned, he knows he'll put himself in a weaker position.

"You really think it'd be that easy?" Peter raises an eyebrow. It'd be nice if it was that easy. He'd totally go easy. "Could have guards out by the perimeter."

He doesn't think he needs to spell out what that means. Shoot on sight.

Peter tucks the concrete chunk into the pocket of his windbreak. The other hand remains nestled around his little ball of dirt, just in case.