[For a second, he doesn't understand. How could it be her fault? But when she finally lets it slip- there's a small voice in the back of his mind that starts in realization that's what's been bothering her- but it's smothered immediately in the cold rage he feels. His hand gives a shake.]

I'll slit his throat when I see him here, I swear I will. [The hard glint in his eyes shows this isn't any idle threat, either. He's done worse things, God only knows, and he can dirty his hands for this.]

[But that isn't any sort of reassurance he realizes soon enough, and he takes in another sharp breath.]

He's... He ain't any sorta thing meant for our world. It ain't yer fault, Beast. It ain't.