Oh. No. Oh-no, Oh-no

Almost immediately the strange damsel backpedalled, skittering out of the water and staring up at him with wide eyes that almost matched his own for hue. She greeted him nervously, an awkward stammer that matched her flighty gaze. She confirmed his idle curiosity, and immediately warned him away. A verdant brow arched in response, and he made a point to slowly scan his surroundings with a painfully apathetic gaze. Yep. The mangrove was quiet, brimming with the ambiance of insects and birds and very little else at the moment. It was her apology that caught his attention, more than anything. Though he paid it little heed beyond noting the oddity of an appeasement that would precede.. a threat? It seemed like a threat.

He shook his coat out a little, yawning just a little. "Not safe, you say?" he rumbled, taking a half step closer to try and catch a better whiff of her scent. It wasn't entirely out of the question that he missed the markers of pack boundaries, the bodies of dozens whose own stink might mingle with her own aroma. There was the hint of masculine musk clinging to her own scent as an undercurrent, but it was nearly overwhelmed by the distinct, acrid tang of fear on her. "I don't think there's much to be worried about around here," he snorted, the tone of his vocals just shy of condescending. Mingled with the heavy accent, it was hard to tell what tone he was taking most of the time to begin with.

"What makes you think I'm in danger, miss kitty?" he drawled. Heavy skull slung low between his shoulders as he dunked his muzzle beneath the briny water to cool his face for a moment. The cool golden gaze didn't break from her waifish form, ears perked for an answer that he suspected would be quite underwhelming.