The crumbling village is admittedly interesting to Bruce, and he was planning on heading over there himself at some point just to investigate. He was curious by nature and out here, more than anywhere else on the turtle, he was safe. If there was an incident, the Hulk would probably tear through the emptiness and abandoned structures until he wore himself out and collapsed, no one the wiser. Bruce had always felt relieved to be in a barren wasteland for precisely that reason, though he didn't precisely like it.

He notices the other hand hanging heavily, notices everything, really, but doesn't comment on it. His palpable wariness is the normal wariness he has upon meeting anyone. Bruce absolutely hates discussing his monster and assumes someone else wouldn't want to have something like that brought up, either, so he doesn't. He's here for a reason and he's doing that.

There's a notebook balanced precariously in his lap, his free hand taking down careful, neat columns of numbers in black pen from the device's screen. He doesn't stand, just looks up at Hellboy and gives a nod back in greeting. It's a very reserved sort of nod, but not unfriendly.

"It's alright. I'm rechecking some data points I got earlier." He's not sure how interested this guy would be, so he doesn't elaborate-- most people are fairly put off to have technobabble spouted at them with little warning. "I'm... uh, I'm surprised to see anyone else out here."