He shrugs at the thought that something might come back. He's quick enough to duck a punch. A pinecone from at least twenty feet away is practically slow motion and shouldn't cause him any issue. "Yes," is his even response, meaning to the part whether he's testing everyone. He has to know who's here with him, because they're all strangers, and there must be some reason they're all here.

"You want to throw something?" he suggests, perching on the edge with a booted foot pressed to the eaves.