The Picnic food truck

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.

Thyme was largely closed these days, a reality that sucked big dick for Abraham's finances. Largely in delivery mode, he spent his time driving here and there to dump off orders outside people's doors, privately comforted in the knowledge that they couldn't get him sick.

This morning he was back in proper prowl territory, having dropped off a few cannisters of herbs to the area early. Now he was fucking around a largely empty food area, deciding a couple sausage biscuits were the cure for what didn't ail him.

He was looking down at his phone for most of the walk over, but when he did look up, boy was he in for a fucking treat.

Some bathing suit buttercup over there looking like he'd spend the night in a barn but, like. Directly behind a horse's ass. The jaguar grunted, wary, and Abraham was too.

But maybe be was also a little curious what stupid garbage was about to unfold. So he followed a ways behind, watching the guy go in, wander his way toward a food truck.

Readying himself to deal with some bullshit, Abraham lit up a cigarette and watched.

Pandemic was shit. Real bad. Shane knew this. Causing a lot of trouble for a lot of people and he didn't relish that. It... also made the city a whole lot more tolerable, though. Had seen a couple idiotic things on the Facebook about now being a good time to travel the world. Empty airports and suchlike. Knew that was dumb. Also knew, based on one of the many things Asha'd told him, he was practically immune to disease. So.

Still, avoiding all the skyscraper metropolitan really city bits. Least for now. But Alameda had treated him all right in the past. Terrace had been there. Some good memories there. Some weird ones to. Still hadn't gotten around to visiting the new site. Didn't want to go see the old. Sentimental, maybe, but wanted to keep it in his mind as it was on Thanksgiving. Didn't need to see some boarded up place, or renovated into whatever else. Mmm. Change was terrible.

Hungry. Fucking of course. Greedy cat. That was fine. He'd halfway had it in his head to try more restaurants. He'd be pretty content eating at the farm forever and calling it a date when Hope showed up. She hadn't expressed any great dissatisfaction, but figured she'd like to go out something more than never. Should have a notion of where to take her then. Hadn't thought it through too well though, most places closed due to the whole pandemic thing. Mmm.

Well, at least could try out one of those food trucks at that old park. Maybe a few of them, really. Hadn't been there since the night he ran over some girl's scooter. None of that this time. Just breakfast. Parked. Stood in a nice short line. Placed his order. Decided to blend in while he waited, pulling out his phone and scrolling through whatever, leaning on a picnic table. Well, blend in more than the flannel already did? When did everyone start wearing flannel? And why did nobody else tuck it in properly? Not even button it most of the time. Citiots.

Oh, order was called. Stood, but had gone and tapped on a series of puppy pictures. Distractedly, he moseyed back toward where his tray had just been set out.

If he just moved quick enough and didn't make eye contact, then he could get away with this. He'd lifted things from stores before, like cigarettes and shit, and it always worked out. He was big and imposing, and no one wanted to fuck with someone like that. Wasn't sure if he would have the same effect on someone while walking around shirtless and barefoot with his ass shoved into some dirty swim shorts, but he'd try.

No time to stop and look around, or realize that he was being watched and in the presence of more than one other shifter. He moved right up to the truck, grabbed the tray, then turned around to start making his way back to where he had come from. Only to be met with the hipster looking motherfucker in flannel coming up while on his phone, nearly crashing right into him with the tray. Mateo grunted as he stepped back, the stupid cat in his brain booming about the sudden crowding of another, smaller predator.

Well. This seemed like it would only ever go well. Abraham could smell a whole fucking cat party over there, though he wasn't close enough to determine that they were both complete rookies. (Well, he had some fair guesses about the half-nude one.)

Deciding he had little reason to intervene until one of them started growing a tail, Abraham bided his time glancing between his phone and the scene, mindful to mark himself skippable in the thread.

Oh, did they bring the food to you? Almost walked into... a fella not suffering from much modesty. Didn't seem like it adhered to any dress code he could imagine. This guy... not an employee? Any such consideration was quickly pushed to the back of his mind as Stowaway, previously only hungrily stretching toward the scent of hot food, began sounding alarmed yowls. Larger. Predator.

Well, fuck. Hadn't been unfortunate enough to have much experience waking up in an urban setting, naked and starving. Only city shift he'd had had been well contained. Still, wasn't hard to put things together, at least in a rough sense. Couldn't tell what this guy was. Something bigger, but fucking surprise there. Hard to focus on anything through Stowaway's insistent screaming. Cat was definitely setting his eyes green. One thing had consistently calmed the little fuck down when confronted with a larger predator, though.

Sharing food.

Shane took a small step back so they weren't sharing personal space, a move that had nothing to do with disease concern. Made no attempt to claim the tray. "Kay. So..." Yep. "Shit night, bud?"

He met the guy head on, staring at him blankly as he braced for some kind of altercation. Fuck, fuck, why'd it have to be hard? He'd already dealt with so much fucking bullshit. The irony was dawning on him now, that he'd gotten in this whole mess at a food truck in the first place. The lion was bothered, pacing and grumpy about the proximity, even if the guy stepped back to give him space. He needed to get the fuck out of here, lingering around like this was too fucking obvious. Was it too late to make a run for it? God, he was fucking miserable. He'd thought he'd hit rock bottom, but this took the fucking cake.

Instead of being yelled at or swung at, instead the dude just accepted what was happening, and came at him with some kind of understand. Shit night? Mateo glanced down at himself. Almost naked, caked in mud, starving, with a bloodied arm of hardly closed wounds. Yeah, a fucking shit night if he'd ever had one. Not as bad as losing an arm, but pretty close. He wasn't gonna do this, though. Stand around and chit chat about the hardships that this guy seemed to think he understood. He just needed to fucking eat and get home. "No inglés." He grunted, moving to side step and maybe confuse the dude enough to let him just slip away.

"Mmm." That complicated things. Should... probably just let it go. Let him go. Order another tray. Wasn't made of money but could afford to lose a meal to some poor fuck needed it pretty bad. Wasn't really his problem. Didn't particularly want it to be his problem. Was this guy new to this? Shane hadn't gotten much of a feel for... power levels or suchlike. Mostly just knew Asha felt a lot bigger on the inside than him, while Nika felt about the same as him. Actually, had started to notice Hope felt... kind of weaker? Tried not to think about it too much, because he kind of liked that and wasn't sure he liked that he liked that.

Fuck, anyway, this guy felt about the same as Hope. That mean he was... Fuck, had he been turned and dumped? Did he have people? Was this the part where Shane had to be yardsale Asha? Mmm.

Man needs help, you help him.

How much high school freshman Spanish did he remember? "Hey," he interjected, trying to keep the guy from wandering off. "Uh... tú... sentar?" Fuck, what were verb conjugations? He pointed to the table he'd been leaning against, presently empty, hoping his meaning would come across. Had clothes in the truck, extra set he kept in case of his own fuckups. Pointed off in that direction. "I have, uh... uh... tengar... pants. Pant-alone-s?" Absolutely pronounced as if he were recommending someone breathe with their tongue out and no one else around. But plural.

Grimacing, he stopped with the asinine effort. "Just... fuckin' stay here, I'll be right back." Assuming no objections came at him, he'd start an easy jog off to the truck. Pants and a shirt both. Looked like they'd fit, well, better than what the fella was wearing now.

---

you... to sit?
to have

Hey. Mateo stopped short, bristling as he shot the guy a scorned look. Was he really ready to throw fucking fists over this? Maybe. He was at rock fucking bottom, and he couldn't even get one inch off the fucking ground. Instead, the hipster did the whitest attempt at Spanish that he'd possibly ever heard. Lorena was even better than he was. But he grasped what he was trying to say. Him, to sit. He wanted him to sit, and that he had... pants in his car. Pantalones. Mateo, despite himself huffed sharply at that. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Fucking building bridges even over a language barrier to offer some pants.

In any other instance, he maybe would have said no. Even if he was butt ass naked, he might have. But what he had going for him now was fucking miserable, and if he even had a hope of catching a ride back home, he'd need to be in actual clothes. So, as the guy implored him to stay, Mateo... did. Glancing around in an impulse to bolt, but instead planting his eyes on the table. Okay. Fuck it. He moved to take the seat, setting down the tray and sighing with a mild shiver. Fucking cold, even with the body heat. He was still kinda damp from the river. And his ass was incredibly exposed right now. Sighing heavily, he settled in to wait, helping himself to a piece of bacon. As he did, his eyes wandered toward a looming itch at the back of his neck, like someone was standing behind him. This whole place felt like that, but there was something stronger. His gaze landed on some dude on his phone. Mateo eyed him steadily as he chewed.

Everything got all peaceful and, you know. What a bummer.

Still, it meant maybe he could get his own food now without Mister Extra Small trying to grab it from him.

Except that same guy was giving him a look, and Abraham offered him an even stare. Certainly he'd been there, done that, but this situation seemed settled enough that he didn't need to intervene.

So he went up to the truck to get a three people's breakfast, now close enough to listen in on whatever shit was happening here.

Easy distance to the truck. Shane was hustling, figuring the longer he took the less chance the guy would even still be there. Which, good enough, he supposed? Man was an adult, could make his own choices and deal with them. Weird to think about, but he himself had been so close to walking out of that weird fucking first meeting with Asha and Nika. It was all too much, and he'd wanted gone. But he'd stayed, listened, and was pretty sure had a better handle on things now because of it. Didn't think... Knew he couldn't provide as, uh, comprehensive guidance as Asha had. Fucking language barrier was going to be a problem. But at least the clothes, right? Something.

Made his way back, jeans and another flannel shirt bundles up in one hand. Hungry still, but just regular hungry. That could wait. Guy was still there, at the table. Ass really hung out all the more for sitting. Shane maybe hadn't thought that part through. Not the focus. Tromped back over there, sitting opposite him at the table and setting the bundle of clothes next to the tray.

Wasn't... real sure what to say. Few standbys. "Kay. So... Yep." Good standbys.

Did point out a line of blue porta potties nearer the entrance. "Uh, could change in the toilets if..." If you didn't want to pull your dick out in front of everyone, he supposed. Butfelt it kind of went without saying. "Uh... uh... baño."

Heavily focused on the thing in front of him, Shane remained pretty oblivious to any other... what, power signatures? Auras? Whatever.

---

bathroom

The gaze he met was just unwavering, but he didn't look away until the other guy did. Soon after, here came the Mr. Do Good, setting down clothes for him. It was nice, just hard to accept right now. He didn't want to have to, this was fucking humiliating. But, that didn't mean he wouldn't. He took comfort in the fact that he didn't owe him anything for it, he hadn't been the one to ask for help. This guy was just doing it to be helpful. Change in the toilets, if... the bathroom. Sure.

"Thanks." He grunted as he moved, swiping up more bacon as he did. Didn't want to leave any of it behind, but there was more important things to handle right now. Clothes in hand, he waddled off to the reeking porta potties to first take a leak, then wiggle into the provided hand-me-downs. It'd just be a minute. All the clothes fit much better than the trunks, but he had to spend some time finding a comfortable way to wear jeans with a bare dick.

Abraham, for his part, would wait for his food and then peace. Whatever possibly pretty gay deal was going on here did not need to involve him.

Only nodding at the thanks, he found some encouragement there. Guy had a little English, at least. As much as Shane had Spanish. That'd help. Setting his phone to lean atop the lip of the tray, mark it as not abandoned, he took the opportunity while the fella was off getting decent to get in line and place a fresh order.

There was... It was a strange, passing sense, but the feeling that... it was familiar... Asha? No, but very similar? It faded before he could really start to make sense of it. Kay. Weird.

At any rate, he'd be seated in his same spot when the other guy got back, better covered and hopefully warmer and more comfortable. Shane sat with his arms folded, phone stored away now as he waited for his order to be called. Again. Should say... something when the guy got back. Try and figure out how he was dealing, if he needed more guidance. But... Eh, it was like with Parker not long before; better to just let them eat in silence. Would go get his tray when it was called and tear into it as well. Stowaway liked that part.

When he reappeared, he felt both more comfortable and more defeated. Look at Mateo, a fucking failure, thinking he could get his shit together if he just ignored the fact that the cat was there. And he shifted over a motherfucking taco. And now he was here, in some strangers clothes that he put on in a porta potty after walking for miles in too small swim trunks. On his way to eat food he tried to steal, but was still allowed to have, because he was a pitiful wreck. He felt like he'd just gotten dragged out of the ring after losing a fight. Just needed more disappointed faces of people he knew.

He sat down heavily, barefoot still, but warmer for the flannel. The food was still there, untouched. Mateo regarded the stranger with a predatory caution, and when he was sure the food wasn't about to be snatched away, he pulled the tray closer and started eating. There was a silence that drew out between them, and it really helped this guy's case. He wasn't being pestered with questions, or stared at for too long, just a silence between them and some kind of fucked up kinship. When the stranger moved off to get the second plate of food he ordered, Mateo paused to rub at his face and sigh heavily into is palm. God, how'd he fucking get here? He was so fucking stupid. This dude was being kinder than he had to be. Made him think maybe he'd gone through the same shit.

When he returned, Mateo offered him a nod, and took in a breath. Time to not be less of a dick. "Uh, thanks." He said again, " 'Sure name?"

Cat settled, crouching low in his mind, his chest. Enjoyed the sense of eating, of plenty. A shared kill. Good enough. Still a bit wary. Larger predator. But good enough.

The quiet seemed... well, like, good. Wasn't a lot of tension in it. Thought back even further than Parker. Nika. Had kind of seemed like he was overwhelming her, trying so hard to find the right words. Got better when he shut the fuck up. Maybe silence was the best thing he could bring. Not sure the value in that, but... It was easy and suited him, so.

Looked like he wouldn't have to break it though. Glanced up from his nearly empty tray. "Mm," he began, swallowing the rest of his mouthful. "Shane." Wiped his hand on a napkin before holding it out across the table, halfway. Halfway expected guy wouldn't take it, but had to offer. Tradition. You don't fuck with tradition.

Looked like he took him off guard. Still, the guy introduced himself with some real white bread name, extending a hand. Mateo wiped his hand on his pants, and reached over to take it, the lion in his brain reeling to get closer and investigate. Still, like with the hyena, he could only see flashes. Something small, spotted, kinda cat like. Wanted to bat him around. "Mateo," He said as he withdrew. Then, holding himself to his word, "I can, eh, I know English." He admitted, shifting in his seat, not letting his face look guilty as he shrugged, "Kinda." Better than a lot, not as good as many more. But he could communicate easy enough.

Little bit of a clearer view with the grip. Still fleeting, but... also a cat, he thought. Kind of shaggy. Guy a lion? Fuck. Wolves, jaguars, bears, coyotes, now lions. More species he encountered more he understood how fucking hilarious Asha and Nika found calling him kitten. Also more he realized how absurdly fucking gentle his turning had been. If it had been a lion than claw kicked him in the chest? Fuck.

Just nodded at first, beyond the requisite, "Kay." Revelation he could speak English. Well, confirmation. Had seemed to understand better than Shane's attempts warranted otherwise. Let out a snort snort of laughter at that thought. "Thank fuck. Wouldn't get far on my Spanish. Uh, muy mal." Even that he was only... kind of sure was right.

Did remain pretty sure this guy, Mateo, was newer than him, but couldn't be positive. Still figuring out that sense. Tried not to assume it out loud. "Only been doin' this since December. Kind of shit, but..." Shrugged. "Seems to be gettin' a little easier to control." That was encouraging, right? He was trying to be encouraging. Maybe after he'd done this for two years he'd know what to say. Same time, infodumps were hard to take. Maybe better he say just this little bit at a time.

Mateo wasn't all that sure what to do with people like this. Made him frustrated, usually, when it was hard to piss someone off. In this instance, he guessed he was supposed to be grateful. This was all hard to navigate, but Shane was doing a good amount of talking. Mateo chuckled at the description of the quality of his Spanish. No shit. As for what he continued with, Mateo regarded him with a tired expression. This guy'd only been at it since December. Sounded close to the time Lora had gotten attacked. And here he was, all on top of his shit, saying it got easier when he'd only been at it a month longer than Mateo. Both this dude and Lora did feel a certain way. Lora definitely stronger than him, but not as strong as Ingrid or Iago. Made Mateo wonder what the fuck he was doing. There was some secret sauce to this, and he was becoming less and less confident that fighting every impulse the stupid fucking lion had was the key to it.

He was trying to wrangle a literal fucking wild animal, and he'd had his ass handed to him for it.

"Good for you." He grunted, then immediately realized that wasn't helping. "Been like this since new years. Things just seem like they getting harder for me." He said with a shrug, looking down at the remnants of the food on his plate.

Wanted to laugh at the initial response. That little bit dismissive, little bit angry, not seeing how it was relevant. Kind of thing he'd been real close to saying at Asha first time they met. Maybe had? That day or night or whatever was such a blur between the shift and trying to process the huge fucking swaths of information and advice. It was really fucking hard to accept help you didn't want to need. Shane got that.

"Mmm," he acknowledged, grumbly with a slight nod. Encouragement hadn't seemed to work out. Maybe oversold the easier bit. Certainly didn't get easy, just... Mmm. "Fuckups happen. Might always. Had an unplanned trip to the woods just last week." Little shrug. Would've been worse without Asha there. Well, might not have happened without Asha there since she triggered the whole thing. But also pulled him back from it earlier that night, so supposed that balanced out.

... Yeah, that was big. Even slightly leery as he'd gotten of her after that experience, Shane had no doubt at all he wouldn't be adjusting nearly as well without her active guidance.

"You got... people? Like us. Who know. Who can help?" Was a really big deal.

Well, guess he learned quick that making it out to be some beautiful struggle wasn't gonna work here. He was truthful about shit still happening, even if it seemed like shit was getting easier to handle. Mateo was willing to bet that was because once you stopped fighting, the monster in your brain started deciding shit for you. Made it harder to want to fight. God, this was all so fucked up.

As for the question, Mateo clicked his tongue agains the back of his teeth, a hand moving to rub below his lip. "Yeah," He said, "I got people." Not ones that could help. Not in the way he needed. Guess he didn't know how he needed to be helped. "I got, uh, I got someone I can call." He added, in case that was gonna be his next question. "Jus' need to borrow your phone."

Little nod. Little, "Kay." That was good. Crucial, probably. Said as much. "Good." Well, maybe not as much. Didn't want to be telling another man his business. Presumptuous. But other people were really a cornerstone for him in all this. Alone, just him and the cat... Still kinda fuckin' hated it. Asha, though, had driven in pretty well how important it was he figure out how to live with it, how fighting it at every turn was only ever going to make things worse. And Hope...

Hope gave him a pretty compelling reason to do everything he could to keep a handle on it. Asha's advice was good, but he'd still probably rage against it—uh, more than he already did at times, whole Zipper's thing—if not for the way he had to be dependable for... Well for both Hope and maybe Parker now. Mmm. Did help, knowing each choice wasn't just about him.

Shane pulled his phone out again, unlocking it and setting it down between them. Bit closer to Mateo. Whenever he wanted to make that call. "Suppose..." he started, frowning uncertainly before he gave a little shrug. "For me, biggest help's been not bein' alone. Folk to lean on, to lean on me. Changes it. Helps." Shrugged again. Wasn't sure how applicable it'd be, if it would mean anything. Best advice he had, if that's what it was.

He moved for the phone as it was set across from him, frowning down at it. He'd have to take some time to try and remember the number. As he did, Shane continued on to stress the importance of leaning on other people. "Not that easy for me, hombre," Mateo mused absently. He had... two, really. Two he could possibly rely on, and one of them was barely getting a hold on herself. She barely had a network to lean on, anyway. Would it be unfair to dump all his shit onto her? Maybe not, if he did the same for her. Guessed they were already doing that, even if it was in a way that was proven to be a fucking stupid move now. His other option, the name attached to the number he was typing out was... well, she wasn't all that forgiving, for all she was something solid to lean on. The rest? His brother? The other lions he didn't even know the names of? Fuck em. "You got a real group of... whatever you is?" What the fuck was he, anyway?

Not that easy. Yeah. Shane liked his independence. Still, only got a noncommittal sort of half nod for that. Wasn't sure it was easy for anyone, bud.

Wouldn't point that out. Not right then. Guy maybe needed a kick to get going the right way, but didn't feel like that was Shane's call to make. Not yet, anyway. Basically strangers. He wasn't likely to respond well to some fella he'd just met telling him he was fucking up when he already knew it. Doubted it'd go well for this guy either.

Just shook his head instead, falling into the returned question. "Nope. Just me n'... Uh, well, my gal. Was that way for a couple months, actually, but..." Mmm, didn't need to get into all this too much. "Met another. Kid, kind of. We're figurin' it out." Oh, and yeah, what he was. Though the name wasn't likely to mean much. "We're black footed cats, been told. Some little African thing." Another shrug. Was a bit curious to get confirmation on if there was an entire goddamn lion inside Mateo, but... Eh, situation what it was, Shane's curiosity wasn't a big priority.

Just him and his... gal. His girlfriend, maybe? Wondered who turned who. Then, another one, a kid. Making it work, sounded like. As for what they were, the name really didn't mean much. Black footed cat sounded like a physical description. Little African thing had him huffing out a chuckle, "Okay," He said, head shaking some, shoulders rolling. Sure, man, whatever he said. "Guess we're opposites. Biggest cat, and smallest." No one had told Mateo that tigers were bigger than lions, but whatever. Mateo stared at the completed number on the phone, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Looked right. Guess he'd find out. He sent off a text, and set down the phone before him. "See if its her first." He explained, inhaling deeply. This felt a lot like calling his mom cause he got in trouble at school.

As much as Shane had researched wild cats of late, he'd never bothered looking up lions or tigers, nor which was bigger. Man was happy to assume this guy knew more about his own animal than Shane did, and also took this as confirmation about lion. How could lion not be biggest? It was king of the jungle or something. So he just nodded, amusement in the small smile that peeked through his beard.

"Yeh." Made sense. Once upon a time he'd been so good at memorizing numbers. About five years back, when he'd finally gotten rid of the landline at the house, all of that was gone. "No rush." Was a nice freedom of his lifestyle, being able to fit all his tasks around whatever schedule.

"There's, uh... A place out west, Sanctuary, safe place to let the thing out. Let it hunt." Gestured to the phone. "Want to put a way to contact you in there, can get you access. Helps too. Thing fucks with the day to day less if it get's, suppose, its time in the sun." Hopefully he'd be... less resistant to the idea than Shane had been when Asha first brought it up.

There was a response, and Mateo listened as he typed out his name. The Sanctuary. He knew it. "Yeah, s'where I been going." He said with a nod, setting the phone back down as he waited. "Er, where she's been taking me." He gestured to the phone. No response yet. He looked up at Shane. "I guess I learned that last night. Fucking shifted over a taco." He clicked his tongue, head shaking. "Well, over it being stolen. By a fucking lobo." To be fair, thing was huge, and he'd been fucking hungry. What chance had he had?

Felt like he ought to know what a lobo was, but couldn't recall. Oh well. Understood the rest well enough. Maybe just Spanish for hobo? That didn't seem right, but maybe. Shook his head, but more out of shared frustration than judgment. Stowaway could get pretty defensive over food. Hadn't developed that pattern of, well, like, sort of ritual truce, he might have made a bid for control over the tray being claimed a few minutes earlier.

"Yeh, cats're pissy. Once fell off a stool n' mine thought he was under attack, so." A hand was lifted, helpless sort of shrug at the stupidity that could ruin their days. Technically it was the sight of another inner beast, Nika's, first he'd ever run across since his turn that triggered the panic, but eh. Details. "Happens."

Prissy. Mateo wasn't even sure what the fuck that meant, but it sounded to close to another word for Mateo to be fine with it being used to describe anything about him, even the cat. Still, seemed like Shane was commiserating, and had his fair share of stupid shifts. Said it got better, though, and that was harder to believe than anything. Mateo sighed, big and heavy, and glanced down at the phone screen. "Lemme call her." He said, not feeling like he wanted to try and spell things, and also not wanting to give this guy the whole story to keep on his phone.

If Shane didn't protest, Mateo grabbed the phone, and stalked back toward the porta-potties to call Ingrid.

"Kay," he'd mumble as Mateo got up. Watched him for a moment before his focus shifted to the destination. Or near it, anyway. Distracted by other memories pretty readily at the renewed sight of the blue shit boxes. Still needed... Maybe he'd head back to Rice Bluff soon. Been told that was wolf territory. Might find Natalie. Apologize? Mmm, probably. Bring a dozen eggs, definitely.

Oh hey! That was right. Lobo meant wolf. Wait... A wolf had stolen his taco?

Mateo returned quickly, looking... about the same, he supposed. Tired. Annoyed. Mite beaten down, maybe. Familiar. Shane greeted him with raised brows and a simple, "She comin'?" Whoever she was.

"Fifteen minutes." He said in response as he nodded and sat himself down heavily. "Don't gotta stick around with me, though. Thanks for the phone." He kinda felt that he'd rather just be alone right now, anyway. Or... he felt like he didn't want to be with this guy. Wasn't that he didn't like him, he could appreciate a kind dude like that, but just. Something about him made Mateo feel real fucking small. He didn't like that. It was foreign to him. He was used to feeling big, on top of the world, the hardest guy in the room. Now he felt like some monster's chew toy, and a dude that'd barely been at it longer than him was out here preaching about how to get better. Hurt his pride, didn't leave much room in his chest for idle conversation or forging and friendship. He was trying to get better at paying people back for shit they did for him, so maybe he'd try and do that for this guy later. But not right now, when he was barefoot and wearing his spare clothes.

Little nod at the time frame. Good enough. The rest... Social cues weren't the realm of Shane's greatest strength. Might be he was being dismissed. Might be Mateo was just... Fuck, what was it, that thing where folk'll push you away just to see if you care enough to stay. Mmm. Felt like either way was a big risk of fuckin' up. Frustrating.

But was really only one option. Way it would've been with him, he wouldn't be playing those games. Would just have to assume this guy wasn't either. Seemed some kind of disrespectful to default to thinking folk weren't meaning what they said. Best he could do was deal straight and hope for the same.

Nodding again and scooping up his phone as he stood, Shane tried to sort out some parting... something. Encouragement, offer of future aid. It all felt some stupid mix of absolutely necessary, duty, way he ought to be, and yet still so far over his head. All of it. "Well. Got my number in your friend's phone now. Can help with anything in future just... let me know."

Could say more. Should? Mmm, probably not. For all his efforts, still seemed like silence served him best. Offered a final nod and, barring any interruption, tromped off toward his truck.