That the roar didn't scare the kid was one thing, but that the child calmly turned and slashed at him was another altogether. It just wasn't natural, it wasn't a reaction any true child would have, and Hank wondered what on earth the boy would be otherwise.
He hissed as the razor caught the outermost layers of skin on his right palm, yanking his hands back and glancing at the cut. It wasn't serious, just a bit bloody, so he looked up angrily, then started at the shield went around him. He moved back so as not to touch it, blinking and wondering what to do with that thing around them, then scowled at the boy's language.
"Nobody's going to touch your mind, and that's a terrible thing to say to a young lady! You should be ashamed of yourself young man. Now put those weapons down or so help me I'll cart you off to the police house and let them deal with you," he growled, using his most demanding voice. Not something he was used to, but something the adrenaline was keeping him looking and sounding more confident than he was.