Jack extremely doesn't like masked cultists (according to Pratt who - look whatever, fuck it, even like this, he trusts Pratt more than a stranger) and especially ones who are shouting and swearing at him, but - the guy is at least, attempting to keep his voice steady, and hasn't actually launched into an attack yet.

And, if what he's saying is true and right, he has a phone for this cabin.

Awkward.

Jack glances from the masked man to Pratt, and then sorta... lowers his arm and straightens up. His fingers are still curled, as if holding something invisible, but his veins are only softly glowing, not actively sparking.

"So. Room's full." Jack concludes more than asks.