He brooks no objection to Klaus' defensive stance in front of him--what good would it do anyway? He's no fighter. "I only glimpsed one," he whispers from behind his rescuer's shoulder, looking beyond him to the bend where the monster continues to lumber in their direction. "Do they travel in packs?"

Its fanged muzzle protrudes from around the corner, and the Fool lets out a faint, involuntary sound of fright, before quickly clapping a hand across his mouth.