Firebringer's head flicks between the direction of gunshots and the now-dressing interloper. If it was on their land, action needed to be taken. For all he knew, they'd just landed in the middle of some sort of supernatural gang war. Which he might not have cared about, if it had been anywhere else.
Either way, at the moment the the board held far too many pieces.
A harsh growl marks the poor fit between his purely wolf form and the First Tongue. «Then we follow.» Vector earns himself a full-on glare, although far from the first directed toward the man. «He leaves.»