It was the hat, really, that was the tip-off. Atop his head, the accessory put the man at just over six and a half feet, but Marcus might have stood out regardless. Even in jeans and a t-shirt, he had a way of making wherever he happened to be standing center stage. Even just standing here, he made leaning casually against a fence pool and texting look somehow important. When his eyes lifted from the phone, they were alight with jovial energy. He was attentive of his surroundings, but it wasn't the sharp attentiveness of a man on edge, waiting for action. More the lazy surveillance of a big cat, checking out its territory in case something interesting was going down.
Grins from this man were of the wide, face-splitting sort, full of teeth and freely given. Looking at him interact, it was impossible to tell that he'd only been in the camp a couple of weeks, himself. The words and gestures he exchanged with passersby came naturally, and his posture was as relaxed as if he'd been born there and known these people his whole life. Marcus Caravahlo was an integrator, and could usually find his place easily. To him, being new had only meant he'd had to learn some new names before asking who had a sofa or room in their tent for an extra body. Then again, he'd come to the camp complete with medical skills and extra supplies. Not in a storm of explosions and gunfire. There was a difference between making an entrance and making friends.
Still, there was no suspicion or reservation when the large man's hazel eyes fell on Griff. Just a gaze that swept over him, taking in the inappropriately heavy coat (shit, he had to be boiling in that) as well as the slow, stilted way of walking that screamed injuries. When it fell on the dog, it sharpened a bit, and here was a hint of wariness. Marcus didn't trust strange dogs, and the one at this man's side was not only off-leash, but big enough to do some damage.
He straightened up off the fence pole and lifted a hand -- phone held loosely in his palm -- to get the guy's attention. There was, perhaps, a small chance that this injured man with the dog wasn't the injured man he'd been chatting with on the freenet. But so far as Marcus knew, Teagan had only been in the one crazy battle recently, so it seemed like a safe bet.