Re: [In-person: PJ and Atticus]
[Matt didn't particularly expect anyone to notice anything about him. If something did come up, money was on the faint whir on his left side, or the stiffness and lack of give in the arm under the long sleeve and glove. He had only cut it to begin with because it had gotten long enough to brush his shoulders in the mirror. For the hundredth time, he thought about taking all of it with a razor and a clump grasped in a tight fist, and didn't. Just made it a little less homeless, and that was it.] Yeah? [She was a beautiful girl, so that was vaguely confused. Sure, she ran a garage, but didn't most women still go to the hair salon? Wasn't that still a thing? It was charming of her to commiserate, and he did that thing again that was practically smiling.
It felt good to watch her squeeze the little stuffed thing. He hadn't found one solid, reliable act that gave him that kind of comfort when he felt the way she did right now, but it clearly helped, which eased his own sharp worry.] As long as you need it. Keep it. Can share.
[He glanced to the venison. He could smell a whiff of cold blood in the air, very faint. He didn't have her nose, but his senses were oversharp and honed from years of practice, necessity, and training. Her theory about keeping it frozen so it would take longer to chew was pleasingly logical, and he nodded. She'd thought this through.
Matt knelt down beside her.] Pack. [Interest.] What happened? [He reached for her cuff, looking to roll it back, take a better look at the arm. If she was infected or had busted her stitches, tonight was going to be all the more complicated. He pulled the glove from his right hand to get better precision lifting the fabric over where she might be hurting, carefully, slowly.] Change the bandage?