Back in '90, while deer hunting with my BIL in NV, I got my deer and did my thing. BIL got skunked that weekend.
We went out the next weekend to get his.
He had "forgotten" to bring a blade. Doh!
He then asked me for my knife (a Dawson 36). Like a fool, I took it off my belt, watched him put it in his right rear jeans pocket (sheathed) and walk out of camp.
He came back later that afternoon at dusk dragging his buck, already gutted.
I asked for my knife. He reached back to his right rear pocket and kinda gave me a weird look. Doh!
I knew it. Never loan your knife to ANYONE. The next morning I got up and backtracked to where he'd shot and cleaned his deer.
Found it. Dew all over everything, sheath was soaked, back of blade was all scratched up.
I was P.O.'d at him, but madder at myself for violating one of my Dad's rules (Never loan your knife/gun/tools to anyone unless you don't want to see them again).
When I got back into camp and BIL was just waking up I lit into him. The scratches came from him pounding on the spine with a rock to break the pelvic bone. Plenty of wood branches all around but he picked a rock to hammer a $175 blade into bone.
He and I no longer hunt together but that's another story.
I do not recommend loaning a knife to anyone, ever, period. If they think they don't need to carry one with them, who am I to argue.
Life is tough. It's even tougher if you're stupid.
Adios