Rodeo's brows shoot up, and he looks back to her, away from the gadgets and computers scattered around her tent. "Really? I mean-- the location, and the... font thing. Both of 'em. 'Cause if I know who's been lookin' at this message, it'll really help. And... if I can see the damn screen when I'm doin' it, that'd be a damn lot better." Rodeo shifts, digging into his back pocket to pull out his phone. It's just a standard touch-screen, a boxy Samsung that had come out right before the world went to shit. Rodeo flicks it on, and his lock screen shows a photo of his blond-furred mutt of a dog sitting beside his black Harley. He keys in his password and then holds the phone out to Rayanne-- a testament to trust that goes unspoken. The Dog King doesn't hand his phone over to just anyone. "Work your magic, whiz kid."