The creature waves dismissively at the suggestion that there was an offer for payment. He may have, but there's still the hurdle of fisherman's pride. It ends up killing a few of them, but it fires them up nonetheless.

His tentacles are never completely still, always in small amounts of movement. It doesn't help that they aren't subject to friction for the most part, only able to grip things when he chooses to.

"The shore...?" he asks, slowly, as if surprised that's where the other wants to go. He offers a shrug.

"Tea is fine, if you don't have anything...stronger." A sly grin. "That's usually what I get in the form of tips."