Creighton listened to the man speak, his eyes tracking his every motion, looking for some kind of tell. Even if he was a demon, he couldn't trust them. Strays were considered dangerous, and if anybody else had found him, they likely would have all rushed him at the same time. Something was...odd about this guy. Part of the Gremory family? Something about his story was fishy. Definitely suspicious. Creighton glared at him for a moment as he started asking about how he became a stray. Before he could tell him to mind his own business, the man focused on what was the actual truth, all without Creighton saying a word to him about how Hildebrand met her end. 

Sighing as the man offered, Creighton held his stomach. He hadn't gotten a good meal in a week, just berries and small native animals. It was hard to try and hunt something big; he didn't want to leave a massive blood trail leading to his little outpost. Begrudgingly, he says: [b]"I'd love to stay the night, but that's where I draw the line. I don't need other people trying to protect me from something I'm hunting anyways. I'm Creighton."[/b] 

At his greeting, the two rats look at each other and nod, before separating back into their many pieces and scrambled up Creighton's legs and coat, resting behind his neck as a large bundle that blended in as a giant mass of brown fur once more. Putting his hands in his pockets, he asked: [b]"So, Mr. Gremory, mind telling me how you seem to know so much about me? I don't recall telling you about my master at all...for all you know, I'm just a stray on a killing spree."[/b]