Most humans looked odd to Grunt's eyes. He didn't usually bother trying to figure out why they did what they did. Or wore what they wore. Shepard he understood. His Warlord could think like a krogan sometimes.
He looked over the man as he strode up to the portal. Small, like most humans. Hopefully he could put up a fight.
Grunt loomed over the man from more than seven feet high. He was big and bulky, clad in heavy gray armor, a shotgun strapped across his back. His skin was tough, with scaly plates on his head, and under his armor, hidden from view. And his mouth was wide, with extremely sharp teeth showing when he smiled--which he did now. "Human."