Teague smiled sadly. "I get that. I don't wholly understand it, but I can groove with it, it's fine." He wondered if there was ever any part of Miniver's life that didn't make him want to not be found. "I suppose what really helped me the most is that you run to me when you don't want to be found, I mean, future-you. Me and a couple other people. But uh... I suppose it's hard to accept that just yet. I just want to be y'know. Safe for you. I know how hard safe is to find, for you." He took another deep, thoughtful drag of his cigarette, leaning his head on his hand as he used the other to steer. "So uh, I finished a painting for you a month ago. It's of your older self as Don Quixote." He smiled wistfully as he spoke of it, "I worked on it for a couple months, off and on, adding to it. It's like a hidden pictures painting. There's so much that you'd miss if you just glanced at it. I'd go in there and paint just the littlest things if I had the idea to. You wouldn't notice that the windmill is actually a giant if you didn't look for it."