When he gets close enough to see him in the dim light, it's clear that this was Jack at one point: he's wearing the same clothes Jack was wearing even if they're strained on his newly muscled, furry chest and arms. He's about the same height, the silvery fur matches Jack's gray-blue hair. He's still bipedal, sort of. There's the general shape of Jack's face beneath the pointed ears, the heavier brow, the thick, sharp teeth distorting the angle of his jaw.

But there's no recognition in his face when he looks up at John's approach. Nothing particularly human, either. He bares his teeth, a threat not to come any closer lest he meet the same fate as the nargacuga, but John isn't attacking him. John isn't running. There's no need to attack to defend himself or chase prey. It's a good start.