His ancestors fought in a war against them, alongside their equally immortal creations. He's heard the stories, read the diaries when no one was looking. Other than that? He doesn't interact with them. The island he grew up on has its own primal guardian, as all isles do, but he's never even seen them. What's their name? Who knows?

So he shrugs, and continues to look blandly at the man.

"They can be whatever they want to be. Is that not often the case?"