It's not a dig at his appearance that has him cringing, it's the response at all. The presence in it. The meaning behind it...she's in there still in some fashion and it makes it all the worse.

She lunges for him, Death's Door snapped up in powerful jaws just as his hand reaches for the raven's skull necklace against his chest. There's a spell on his lips- but the energy doesn't even stir. His gut-deep shock loosens his grip on his weapon and it's the only thing that keeps him from being tossed as she wrenches what was no better than a stick from his hand. No magic, no Death's Door, and all that brutal rage there isn't enough analysis in the world to find him a way out of this clean.

His hand falls from his holy symbol and his life hangs on how quick he can move as he darts in to try and snatch handfuls of her fur at the crook of her neck.