Gyre tilts his head at Eight's response, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out what it means. Then uh I mean he's a predator and he's hungry. The little bird wings so close to him make his attention snap to them, and he pauses for a moment in surprise.

"It's Twelve," he says, half to inform Luka, and half to inform himself. Despite trying to remind himself that monsters are friends, his white pupils have shrunk into tiny pinpoint of blazing light, his hand slowly rising. He could probably grab this bird without Luka noticing, right? This is what his lizard brain is saying anyway, and he draws a slow breath through his nose to steady himself. His hand is still moving, but slower now.

"Nice to see you again, Twelve," he manages after another second, through grit teeth.