Jacob supposes that's true- things with claws tend to use them for catching and eating other creatures, although maybe it makes sense for pray animals to have some sort of weapons to defend themselves. Mother Nature probably isn't that kind, most of the time.

He stops even as Charles' arm rises, listening to those strange little bells. He doesn't much like the noise, or the echo in the strange corridor, and the scrape of claw on metal which is now close enough to hear.

"Are we fighting or running?" Jacob asks, voice low. They're not actively hunting these things after all.