She looked down at the knife in the other's hand.

He looked at the knife and wondered as well if the road of his life would come to the same end.

He looked down at the knife that lay on the floor near the man's open hand.

On behalf of all the women who'd died at his knife.

The man looked down at the knife on his belt.

He glanced down at the knife, then back into her face.

She looked again at the knife in the first man's kidney.

Looking at the small knife, he had to wonder if it would actually go in deep enough to do any damage.

He looked at the knife, an advantage but useless now.

She covered her body with some hay, and looked at the knife.