"They won't," is Krok's simple answer after he glances at the big hand wrapped around his wrist. They're nearly the same height now, the two of them, but Spinister still has hands that seem as big as Krok's head. Probably a trick of the eyes at this point. Krok looks up again, deadly serious. "They won't. Now." Tense but trying to find a better turn in the mood, Krok loosens his hold, free hand falling again to Spinister's shoulder. "Let's get you settled in," he suggests with a faint smile.