"I get it." he scoffs, giving Klaus a sidelong smirk. "You'll be fine."

Ed leaves his dagger stuck in the bar to gulp down more beer. Absolutely not gonna be sober for any of this. He'll smoke whatever you've got, too... actually...

A few beers in him, be feels a bit less on edge and a little more himself. It helps to have company that seemingly doesn't expect him to Captain them about and isn't, well, you know, Izzy. A little bit of the old Ed can slip in, here and there. He reaches inside his jacket and empties the contents of his inner pocket. There's a pipe, a small portable snuff box and a smaller box of matches, which he starts to fumble with on the bartop, stuffing the pipe as he talks.

"Most of fighting is about avoiding getting hit. Surprise someone or tire them out first, then strike. You probably know this shit but... whatever, add a knife. Look for weak points. Get creative. Half the time if you scare a guy bad enough they go down easy. And if you have to take a hit," he stops, only to put the pipe in his mouth and light it, taking a different kind of hit, then speaking again with the strain of some with smoke in their lungs, "know where to take it."

He exhales, taking a deep breath. Fuck, he needed that.