"A what?" He watched the other, taller man's approach, his face impassive. He did not much like the way he had to tilt his head back to look up at him, liked less the word he used - teetotaler? - if only because he had no idea what it meant or whether or not it was insulting. He glanced down at the offered hand but made no move to take it; he was equally as confounded by the social norms of being around other... monsters, he supposed, for lack of a better word, and his eyes narrowed as the bearded man offered his name along with another word that he had never heard before.
He began to suspect he was being fucked with.
"Dante," her barked, disgusted by the exaggerated vowel sounds coming out of the other man's mouth. "What the hell is a Wendigo?"