He should have bitten sooner. But as soon as the human's fingers press against his snout, Seto's eyes widen and he backpedals further, snorting out a line of irate bubbles as his face and neck scales glow brightly, the ones on his neck betraying movement as the larger plates shift. Like gills. Because they are.

What is your problem?!

Then, as if to quash the momentary cowardice, he snaps at the human's fingers, one pointed fang barely grazing against the very tip and likely cutting like a precision tool. It's less to injure, more to frighten.

His scales flash again, in a different pattern.

Don't touch me.