The man doesn't bother blinking--or maybe he's just forgotten that kind of human mannerism entirely, with how focused he seems to be on the odd, pale thing in front of him. Their answer earns them a moment of silence, a boon of consideration, and it isn't until the woman next to them speaks up that he finally looks away.

"Is this..." The woman was fully prepared to sling out more accusations, but she is not immune to whatever vaguely distressing feeling the newcomer is still bleeding into the air. She ends up letting go of Phalanx for her own safety, "What is this? Are you with the Rings or something?"

His smile widens and he is quick to adopt a more casual, placating tone. "Nothing you need to worry about, ma'am, so long as you aren't looking for trouble."

The woman retreats back into her tent, resigning to crossing her arms and muttering something about how she don't want no trouble, no sir, which leaves Phalanx entirely free to be metaphorically scooped up by this stranger instead.

"Follow me, won't you?" Speaking to his new friend again, he holds out his hand expectantly. It's black like the rest of him, gloved.