( Petey is, more than anything, faintly amused by the clap on the shoulder. It's not that he minds the touching, generally — it was more the whole insane grabbing from an absolute stranger thing that had his hackles up. A little bit of friendly touchytouchy is okay. The Rumanceks are a familiar group, you get used to it.

But hey, he's not about to correct the guy. He won't object to somebody being a little more fucking mindful about boundaries and shit.

So anyway: they end up in the woods. Peter seems far less concerned about the whole thing than perhaps a man with only a pocket knife ought to be, and shoots a bright-eyed look Travis's direction. )

Sure, man. Whatever helps you feel safe. Lemme see that map again?

( He's gonna do his very best to make out those smudges and, if all else fails, he'll just go wherever his balls tell him to go. That strategy usually works out for him. )

Hey, by the way, you know if anybody sells smokes around here? I'd kill for a fucking cigarette.