Newt had been paying little attention to most of the other people of the little town unless they approached him first. It likely isn't the best way to ingratiate oneself, but he's never been keen on that sort of thing. He has no illusions as to how he is perceived in general, and how his habits and tendencies usually annoy those who stay for too long in his company.

His attention is drawn by the swarms of fireflies dancing like winking stars clustered in strange patters throughout the area. He's aware enough, to know that he isn't alone here in the woods, and makes his steps more noticeable as he comes up on the stranger.

"Apologies," he says, voice soft as Newt comes around a tree into view. "I wasn't intending to startle anyone. I was only following---" He points up at the fireflies. "Them."

He sees the man's stance, the emptied box, and how he seems ready to bring a weapon to bear.

"I'm Newt Scamander."