The thing behind him registers to heightened senses, though not as much so as he would have preferred. He makes a note to sniff around when they get back, see if anyone can provide him what he needs to restock his supplies, but there are more pressing issues at the moment. When he turns it's already dealt with, a large beast of a man tearing it apart.

He notes the claws, and the teeth. The other various things that point to something Else, but it's not any kind of creature he's met before. Werewolves tend more towards wolf and only under the full moon, and the other half-spirits are usually more deliberately so. Cursed, then, maybe, especially when it speaks, and his guard doesn't lower but that's training too deeply ingrained to leave now. The knife's already in his hand anyway, but he doesn't move to strike or threaten, only regards the other skeptically.

"If you like, I suppose," he answers, attention shifting to the tattered crab. "If you cook it first."