He pauses, briefly, hunched over as he drags his latest kill into the darkness. He waits for Meetra there, on his haunches, almost like a wolf hovering over slain meat. His helm's red eye sockets blaze as he stays still, the only sound the recycled air exhaled by his helmet, and a very low buzz of the power pack. He is clearly inviting her to talk at length, taking a moment away from his upward climb to speak with her, even as the combat knife is held in an overhand, slasher's grip.