After about the third ring, Rauly shot up in a panic scrambling for his phone. “Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit.” His hands were frantically feeling up all of his pockets and couldn’t find the source of the ringtone. Finally, he looked up from his own body and found the small flashing led poking through a garment pocket. He leapt out of the strange cot, paying no mind to his generous savior, fumbling for the small electronic device.<br/><br/>Once he had a handle on it, he quickly flipped it open and whipped it to his ear. “Hello! Hello?...fuck!” With a defeated sigh, he snapped it shut and stared at the front screen that now showed a “missed call” message, giving him a grim reminder that he was in trouble. He grimaced at the thought of what was to come before clicking away from the status, letting the screen return to its usual home wallpaper with the time lit up brightly.<br/><br/>What? Where the hell did the day go? He noticed that a few hours had passed since he last looked at his phone, but how? Where the hell was he? He stowed his phone back into his pocket and looked around at the worn down shack, trying to remember how he got there and why he had this splitting headache. Only once his eyes fell onto the silver-haired man from before did he remember everything that had transpired earlier that day.<br/><br/>He wanted to be angry, but the heat didn’t come. He was too exhausted. He took a hand rubbed at his temples for a moment before asking him, “okay....who the hell are you? And where the hell am I?” He needed info, and fast. One, because he needed to continue his mission before he’s in any deeper shit than he already is. Hopefully he’s not too far from where he needs to be. And two, this guy’s got a sick punch. Maybe he could be useful to the cause.