The truck that stopped was huge. It wasn't quite a Semi-Tractor, but close enough. As the man clambered down from his seat, her eyes fell upon the hook for one of his hands.<em>Did people -still- use hooks these days? or was that his preferred weapon?</em>She couldn't help it as her imagination ran away with her. She stood motionless as the man asked if they needed assistance.<strong><em>Erm, Um.. yes. I think.</em></strong>She stammered.<br/><br/>The big man let out a chuckle, and ignored her obvious fright, walking to the front of their truck. It was then that she noticed that his flannel plaid shirt was fairly dirty.<em>Maybe he worked on cars for a living..</em>He fiddled with something under the hood and poked his head around to look at Lonestar. Try that. He suggested, meaning for Lone to try starting the truck.