Warklegnaw sets down his club and takes up the spiked gauntlet, turning it over in his meaty fists before trying it on. It's a little loose, owing to his muscles perhaps no longer being what they used to be. He still seems quite pleased with it though, flexing his fingers through the carapace fingers and swinging his arm here and there. It's not aggressive, but it nevertheless sends buffets of heavy wind that almost threaten to knock you off your feet, were you not to brace against it. "Not much care if worms get hurt. Took my eye, took my clan. What worms coming this time? More pinkskins?" He points a gauntletted finger at the humans among you though the voice is more curious than accusational.