A click of tusks to teeth signaled his displeasure at the deflective nature of her response. It wasn't like he was seriously questioning the bravery of a rag-tag band of adventurers that chucked themselves into a flesh-eating shadow curse, no. Though he did have to wonder if perhaps the chucking was more along the lines of running- to the nearest source of light once they had all seen what became of the Harper who didn't.
Arms crossed before him, the leather belts of his armor crinkled with each absent-minded sway from foot to foot as he observed the fire's effects against the darkness that danced along the edges of where the light from the campsite and its various candles and lit braziers fell off and died. "I figure there's worse things 'en shadows what'll clean your bones out there." He noted, voice gravelly from the last throat-shredding rage ignited in a battle against ten-foot tall shadow beings.
"No use in screamin' bout it. Already hoarse as it is given whatcha know've me." Which was that he got very angry before he got scared. Another dry swallow had him reaching for a nearby pitcher of water which he tipped back with both hands to pour into the back of his throat.