You keep the fang for yourself

Fang? What fang? You say nothing to the guardian, while making the most normal face you can think of. It comes out looking like this:

The guardian blinks at you.

"Yeesh, okay. Just tell me if you see it, alright? My little toofies hurt. And besides, anyone who knowingly kept it would slowly crumple up over a span of decades, like an eldritch banana dropped behind a radiator. Either that, or they'd just have wildly good luck to the end of their days, I really can't remember which. Hey, you wanna help me search?"

You nod quickly and unsuspiciously, the fang audibly jangling around in your pocket with the force of your normal nodding.

"Thanks, mortal. My next search spot is The Library. I like to go there on the weekends and knock stuff off the shelves."

The guardian steps past you, and continues on into the inky depths ahead.

You follow.