The Picnic Rat

Fit

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He was strapped for cash again, which wasn’t abnormal, but it did make things a little more difficult. A lot more difficult actually, and while he still had shit that he could probably sell… He wasn’t quite ready to go there yet. Still needed time, and so he had to get a bit… Creative.

Stealing wasn’t an otherworldly act for him, but it wasn’t one that he preferred to do. Got in trouble that way, and Ronan wasn’t looking for trouble. Not yet anyway, and definitely not in another Were’s territory.

So he was left to scavenge like the little rat that his father had claimed him to be, walked the food trucks like he was observing the menus when his eyes were actually searching elsewhere. The tables.

Noted when one walked away, assumed they were done with their shit and swooped in to grab the boat hopefully before anyone noticed.

Barely registered when his body collided with another in his swift exit, boat coming up to spill meat, cheese and chips across his chest. ”Shit!”

Wasted.

fit

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Arnie was slamming back a hot dog smothered in a spicy mustard, fully enjoying that snap he got with each bite. He should have known better- walking and eating often led to disaster, especially for an old man that was too engrossed in his food to even notice the boat of nachos and the man attached to them careening into his path.

He realized it all too late and, startled, dropped the half-eaten hot dog to the ground as nachos hit the younger man's chest and dropped down onto Arnie's old boots. He looked to the man very apologetically, "Ya alright there, son? Ya came outta nowhere like a possum in a corn crib!"

He could feel it, the typical rage that came from the beast within his head, could feel it bubble as they watched the food slide down from their shirt onto the ground below. Could recognize that words were being said to him, and would slowly force his dark gaze to meet the old shit bag in front of him.

Pressed his lips together as his brows furrowed in open confusion.

”The fuck you just call me?” Was he being insulted right now?

The boy was mad, apparently thinking Arnie was insulting him. It took the old farmer by surprise, and he took a step back. "Weren’t callin ya anything," he calmly explained with a smile. "Just didn’t see ya is all. How’bout I getcha a new thing of chips, alright?"

Then what was the shit with the possum and corn? Whatever, it didn’t matter. There was an offer on the table, and given his recent acquisition was currently split between boat, shirt and ground. He didn’t really have room to decline.

Pulled in a breath, looking the man over as the confusion remain, ”yeah. Sure, okay.” Pointedly shoved the beasts rage down as he pressed a hand to the back of his neck. ”Thanks.”

There- that was better. "Ain’t no problem at all. Ya make a mess, ya gotta clean ‘er’up." Arnie looked down at the mess between the pair of them.

"Speakin’ of, ya mind givin me a hand with this? My knees like to pop louder’n than some corn in a kettle these days and iffen I bend over too much, I’m gonna end up on the ground writin myself a goodbye letter."

With a groan, he’d go ahead and bend those knees to start picking up some of the spilled chips.

The way this man spoke was a bit grating, Ronan’s brows remaining furrowed as he watched the older man duck down to get to work on the spilled food.

Honestly would have left it for the actual animals, but he didn’t want to risk losing out on the free meal.

Cleaning up a tiny mess like this was a small price to pay.

Ducked down next to the man and began placing the ruined chips into the slightly deformed boat. ”I got it, don’t-“ pressed his lips together for a moment. ”Uh, get stuck.” He didn’t feel like carrying the man across the entire lot.

Arnie gave a laugh as he picked up the last bit of his hotdog and a few chips. He’d stashed some napkins in his pockets so it’d be easy to get the cheese off later.

"What ya don’t wanna carry me on out of here?" he asked, taking a little time to straighten himself back up. The ground wouldn’t be perfect, but that was alright. Mostly he just didn’t want any little kids nearby finding the food and trying to eat it off the ground.

"Alright, now which one did the nachos come from?" he asked, looking at the different trucks.

Scooped what he could into the boat, raising his brows at the question as he gave his head a shake.

”Not an ideal way to spend my day,” he offered with a snort as he pulled the last of the food into the boat.

But he probably would have done it if it he really had to… Or just dropped him off at one of the benches.

Picked himself up off the ground, and looked towards the trucks. Didn’t know which one had the nachos, so made a show of wiping cheese from his shirt as he let his gaze wander.

That one looked like Mexican food… Maybe.

”That one.” A finger towards the further truck.

Arnie was a pretty independent old man too and being carried around by someone else wouldn’t be his ideal way to spend a day either, truth be told.

He gave a good natured chuckle about it and once the mystery of the nacho truck was solved, Arnie gave a nod and started heading over.

He’d be walking a little slower, standing straighter to stretch his back out a little more. But just for a few moments. A small line greeted them, just one family in front of them.

Arnie turned back towards the man. "So what’s her name anyway?"

Ronan would keep pace with the man, less so out of politeness and more so that he could make sure that the other didn’t suddenly try to change his mind. Didn’t want to walk ahead only to find that the other had gone in an entirely different direction.

Not that he suspected that this man could get very far very fast.

Not that Ronan was likely to do anything if he did change his mind.

He didn’t fuck with the elderly like that. Didn’t feel right.

”Ronan,” he offered. ”Yours?”

Ronan felt like an odd name, but Colorado had proved to be a bit of an odd place. This was all fine with Arnie, who was an odd man in general. "Arnie," he answered, giving a curt nod instead of offering a handshake.

The family in front of them got their meals and headed out, so Arnie easily stepped up and, without looking at any menu boards, ordered two nacho boats, assuming Ronan had the right place for nachos.

Arnie was an oddly suiting name for the man that he’d come across today.

Guy looked liked an Arnie.

Nachos ordered, and while not exactly the same as the ones that he’d snatched from the table earlier, were still available. Thank God.

”Thanks.” Said as he stepped to the side to allow the next group to go as their food was prepared. ”You live around here then?”

Small talk wasn’t his specialty, but the guy had just bought him nachos and it felt needed.

Nachos acquired and names given, Arnie had assumed the younger man would scamper off. But he was pleasantly surprised to hear the other ask him about being in the area.

Arnie gave a smile "Yessir, over in Opal Wash," he started, using the nacho boat to point to the general direction of the town. "Ya wanna grab a seat?" he asked then, nodding towards a few empty picnic tables.

There was indeed some temptation to leave, to go eat his food in peace and start making his way around to some other picnic area to snatch up another meal.

But Ronan was already this deep, and he could probably spare a few more minutes for an old man.

”Yeah,” an answered for the question as he made to lead them both towards an empty space. ”I’m out in Camp Baron, so opposite ends.” And somehow they’d both ended up here.

Understandable for the old man, less so for him.

Arnie nodded his head as they found a spot. With a groan he took a seat and munched on a nacho for a moment. "You a ranchhand out there?" he asked, already pulling up goofy farmer stories to share with the kid if he was.

He look like a fucking ranch hand?

”Oh yeah,” Ronan answered with a nod of his head, a nacho into his mouth. ”Hard work and shit, but it pays.”

Better than admitting that he didn’t currently have a job and chose to get money through selling his ex-mates shit.

Slowly.

What good luck! Arnie gave a wide grin, wide enough to show some of the missing teeth he had. He nodded at it being hard work. He knew all about that. "Yessir. Hope they're paying ya what yer worth too. When I was a young'un, my Pappy would give me a nickel to muck out the calfin' barn." He shook his head disapprovingly. "Weren't paid what I was worth in those days."

Ronan didn’t have a fucking clue about what was coming out of this human’s mouth, and it would marginally show on his face as he gave his head a few nods on (not)understanding.

”Oh yeah, worth way more than a nickel.” Ronan agreed with raised brows. ”Thankfully they pay good down here.” Another handful of nachos in his mouth.

"Good, good," Arnie said with a nod. And since he was hungry and also was interested in the nachos, he was silent for a few moments while he worked on some chips of his own.

He wondered if the young man would ask him anything or stay quiet.

The man went silent and Ronan took that as a sign that he needed to finish his nachos and start heading towards the next picnic area. Finished his food with the fervor that only a Were could really justify, hands brushing against his pants as he shoved the last of the nachos in his mouth.

”Well, thanks for the food but farms calling an’ shit.” Elegantly put as he rose from the bench. ”Try not to throw your back out.” Pleasant as Ronan could be as he lifted a hand in farewell.

Nachos just weren’t enough.

Arnie stared in silent awe as he watched the man opposite him down the nachos like they were the first meal he’d had all day. He took his own time eating one of his own as the man finished up and then stood.

Work called apparently, but Arnie had a feeling the fellow just wanted to get out of the conversation. Being around a long time tended to help in understanding others.

Arnie wouldn’t hold him up. He gave him a smile. "I’ll try!" he said with a hacking cough coming in at the end of his laugh. He wished he could’ve given the man some parting wisdom, but he was lifting a hand and going.

That was alright. Arnie would just finish his nachos in peace.