He... licked the lid. He didn't understand how tins worked.
Absurdly, Ren snorted, amused, then giggled briefly. She quickly covered her mouth, looking worried. She hadn't really been in the laughing mood before, so she had no idea how he would react to being laughed at.
He just set it down, clearly unimpressed. Man, she was about to blow his fuckin' mind. She was hesitant to reach for it, though. What if he thought she was stealing it? He'd been pretty good about letting her randomly grab at things in the past, but, gosh, it was almost like him sitting there soaked in blood from head to toe was making her extra cautious, or something.
She did reach for it, eventually, slowly, broadcasting her movements. At the same time, he reached towards her. She froze, hand halfway to the tin, as he hooked a claw into her pants.
This upset her for several reasons.
One was that tearing off her clothing was a very obvious prelude to something she was not willing to do with him completely covered in blood. Not that she'd been willing to do it before but... no. Please, god, no. But even more importantly... he was going to get a lot of blood and fleshy bits in her open wound that way. She didn't have so much as an elementary school's formal education, but she'd lived with some questionably intelligent people, on and off, and learned some questionably intelligent things. Being careful with blood and other dead-human bits was explicitly one of them.
She started to shriek in alarm, but quickly killed the sound in her throat, remembering the screaming of the men downstairs. What came out was more of a squeak. She lunged towards his hand, catching his wrist not so much with her own hand as with her entire forearm and shoving it quickly away from her injured leg, scooting her legs back a bit as she did.