Croach bristles at being referred to as an anything, but before he can express his displeasure with the term, he senses the approach of a predator. He becomes distinctly aware of the smell of his blood and the current accessibility of his organs. The armed stranger notices it as well, thankfully, and Croach sits in the greatest quantity of stillness - resisting a shiver at the creature's uncomfortable proximity to his antennae - until it is safe to move again, and he releases the breath he was holding.

"Onus reduced," he mumbles into the silence that follows, and then calls out to the female stranger. "We are sound." Generally speaking. "It is safe." Ish. All the same, he reaches with his functioning arm to take his bow and an arrow from his holster, laying them across his lap.