Fenrir grumbled to himself, his shoulder was burning slightly but he didn't even bother to put it out . Something as small as fire no longer hurt him. He knew there was a fire on his shoulder, but he was unphased by it. His clothes were burnt pretty badly, but his skin underneath it was perfectly fine. Fire tended to be the enemy of regeneration, but Fenrir's regenitive ability and sheer endurance was strong enough to handle a small fire. He eventually patted it out so it didn't harm his clothes because he was too broke to get new clothes.

Fenrir looked at the strange man and growled lowly, trying to hide it a bit more that he was out in the open, "Do you want my fist to punch your face?"