It didn't immediately occur to Sullivan that his new company wasn't fully alert. His thoughts were scrambled by panic and a possible concussion, and he continued to prickle and growl at him until he realized that he wasn't growling back. Or doing much of anything, really. Chest heaving, Sullivan slowly calmed, resting on his haunches as he watched the other shifter with a vigilant eye.<br/><br/>Once he started to come to, however, Sullivan was back on guard, black fur on edge and lips curled. He tried to seem intimidating this time, he really did, but when that slab of meat extracted his claws, he nearly fell back on his ass. Fuck, he was<i>scary</i>! Twice his size and nearly double his weight, too! And the way he looked at him simultaneously disturbed him and pissed him off, like he was judging his worth or - or something.<br/><br/>Sullivan bravely opened his mouth, intent on saying something, when a strong, deeply accented voice hit his ears. He fell silent. He was asked if he had been drugged 'too'. Of course this poor sod had been drugged; how else would those meat bags be able to wrestle him in here? But he seemed concerned for him, not angry. Not judgemental. Sullivan cleared his throat and furrowed his brow. He looked askance for a moment, trying to seem cool.<br/><br/>"Nah," he croaked. "Don't think so." He sucked on his teeth as he shrugged his right shoulder, trying to scratch his ear. He failed. "Whacked me on the head." He growled, partly out of hatred for the pigs who put him here and partly out of frustration with an itch left unscratched.<br/><br/>After a beat, Sullivan blew out a dramatic puff of air. "Aliester, huh," he repeated, trying out the name. He figured he might as well introduce himself in kind. He didn't trust this other man, but he hadn't been made so stupid by the assault to make him his enemy. "Sullivan. Just, ah, just Sullivan." Sullivan Tanner, technically, but he wasn't in the habit of giving out his last name to anyone who came calling.<br/><br/>"Where ya from, Aliester?" Sullivan asked, peering at him with curiosity and suspicion. "Not from here, right?" He had to wonder just how far humans were willing to go to bring back good 'merchandise'. "How far did they drag ya? And what did ya<i>do</i>?" Aliestar was no petty thief, that was for sure. Sullivan briefly wondered, as he suppressed a shiver, if he had murdered someone.