He may be bad with humor, but he understands double-entendres involving swords are aimed at a certain anatomy, which he presumes she doesn't have.

It's her response, though, that earns a curt laugh from him. "Oh, don't mistake me for a friend."

Another forceful strike snaps his branch again, and-- Okay, that... might put a damper on their fun. It's little more than a 'hilt' now. Barely even a dagger. He'll dance back from her attacks if he needs to, discarding the remains of the makeshift weapon.