Alas, it was a good idea and he would rather remain alive and unoriginal than become one of those oft-touted dead trendsetters.

"Or what," he murmurs, mostly to himself, that being the general direction of rhetorical questions. The hand not holding anything sharp makes a rough outline of the seal on the door, which tells him - irritatingly - nothing, other than that it's haphazardly composed, and he could see that.

The scream and subsequent crying bring him up short, although it does not appear to make him any more inclined to like, get the door open; his body language actually now reads more warily than it did before, and he wasn't exactly relaxed then.