morning after
these but EXTREMELY too small
He woke up in a fucking cave.
A cave, wet and covered in blood, with a bite mark on his arm and completely, entirely naked. Mateo wasn't exactly a stranger to waking up in random places, but the cave took the cake for the worst place ever. And he'd woken up in a 7-11 bathroom once. There was a lot of confusion surrounding where he was, how he'd gotten there, and why he had shifted. It was hard to remember anything past getting a taco. But, as he picked himself up and chucked a few rocks at the wall hard enough for them to shatter into millions of little pieces, he was able to stitch together flashes of a wolf. A wolf that stole his food, so he fucking shifted. What a fucking dumbass. He felt helpless.
It didn't help that he was naked, and entirely lost. Even trekking out of the cave had given him pretty much nothing to go on. He wouldn't admit it, but the only thing that saved him was the heightened senses that the cat gave him. He could hear water, bigger than just some stream, and he knew enough about the area to know a river cut through the valley, and that there was civilization on one side of it. Hoping he wasn't leading himself deeper into the wilderness, Mateo struck out on a nude hike toward the water. If there was anything more fucking humbling than having briars cling to the hair on your ass, he'd like to fucking hear it.
It took an hour, but he finally had found himself spit out on the shore of the river. There, across the water, he could see the skyline of the city. Feeling pretty fucking lucky, all things considered, he hadn't expected to come across something he sorely needed as he started picking his way through the most shallow part of the river. Swim shorts. They were caked in mud and disgusting, but so was he. Figuring they probably were washed away from some camp site upstream, he took it upon himself to do his best to beat the mud off against a rock, and had squeezed his fat ass as far into them as he could get it. They absolutely did not fit him. It was a miracle they had even gone over his thighs. He had to choose between showing too much crack, or risking it and showing an uncomfortable amount of pubes. Given he was venturing into some city, he chose to shift the stiff material around to at least kind of cover his dick. Kind of. The moose knuckle was ungodly, but he was working with what he had, here.
And so he went, wading through the water, and managing to get himself across. It was early enough that the streets weren't entirely busy, but he did his best to find side streets and alleyways as he went, heading... somewhere. He was pretty sure he was in Alameda. It didn't really matter, he just needed to find a way to get home. He had no money, no phone, no clothes other than too-small swim shorts. His chances were looking fucking grave. To top it off, he was fucking starving. So starving, in fact, that it was pretty impossible to focus on his other objectives. Especially when the smell of food suddenly hit him as he passed behind a lot that a few trucks were parking in. A heavy, overpowering smell of waffles and fruit and eggs and sausage. Fucking breakfast food truck. Mateo stopped short, standing behind a chainlink fence at the back of the placed called the Picnic, looking fucking insane but greedy with hunger. He felt like he hadn't eaten in weeks.
The crowd was sparse, and the irony of the situation was lost on him. He needed food. Food, now, think later. But how? He'd have to fucking steal. With that in mind, he moved around the fence, entering from the side as opposed to the main entrance, and made his way carefully toward one of the trucks who's worker had just placed down a tray of steaming hot food.