Let him make his assumptions. See where they got him. Ryah surreptitiously studied the weapon. He'd come across all sorts of different kinds as a hunter but this one didn't even look man-made. He'd never seen anything like it and he had to admit, if only to himself, he was curious about it. Did it even use bullets?<br/><br/>"Oh, really? He owes you? What does he owe you?" Ryah arched an eyebrow. There was no way it was something as mundane as money or as ridiculous as sex. Hearing the dryer come to a halt, he snagged his clothes and headed up the stairs, presumably to change, sarcastically telling Kane to make himself at home. While he wasn't ashamed of his body, he wasn't about to give some intruding asshole a free show. Once he'd changed into jeans and a t-shirt, he grabbed his phone and shot off a quick text to Drake, letting him know about the strange and rude guest occupying the living room.<br/><br/>He came back down, and grabbed his dishes, taking them to the kitchen. As soon as he got within a couple feet of Kane, he threw them at the inhuman and reached behind his back, grabbing his knife and sliding behind him. He had the blade at Kane's neck in an instant. "How about you<i>not</i>make yourself at home here and get the fuck out of my apartment?"