"Oh, er, no," Lou said quickly, rather caught off guard by the bold assertion. Finish him off? Merlin, it wasn't as though Lou was some sort of roving beastmaster, setting rabid dogs loose on the public in hopes of causing chaos. There were, of course, some rather romanticized and backwards ideas Muggles had about werewolves that painted them in just such a light, and the irony of the situation was not lost on him, but it was rather overshadowed by the stranger's evident distress.

"Look, I'm terribly sorry," he said, eying the front of the building and wondering where the front door was. "But I'm sure we can get it all sorted out without any duels." At least from this angle, Lou wasn't sure where the entryway was (or, more accurately, which door belonged to the correct residence; the houses in Bartonburg had always been crammed in rather too close, and the last thing he wanted was to go breaking into the neighbor's house by mistake and make the entire situation worse). After a hesitant moment, Lou eyed the broken window and gingerly moved to step through it. "I'm coming in, alright?" he said, unsure how much the man could see from his position on the floor and not wanting to find himself on the receiving end of any hexes — much as he might deserve them, after the chaos his new mutt had apparently wrought on the house.