Cait bobbed lazily in the bed of the truck as it rolled the I-40. Occasionally she jostled herself to find a more comfrotable postion if one existed, and pulled her air away from her face as the wind whirled across the exposed bed. As the beater clunked on towards the exit to Eureka Springs, she found an iota of relaxation in propping herself up against the backside of the cab, and listening to Vincent's music selection through the open rear window. It wasn't her first choice for tunes, but it was better than silently watching yet another stretch of southern plains scroll past; she had since given up trying to sleep, resigning to the quick nods of unconsciousness that came from fatigue being as close to rest as she'd get until they finally came to a stop.

When she wasn't fixating on the sound of the radio, distorted by the rushing of highway air, she was eying Cleome, with whom she was sharing the truck's bed on this leg of the journey. The Fae had caught Cait's immediate attention and held it, as she was the most physically peculiar with her fairy-like wings and antlers that seemed to have come from an elk. Though the Fae's defining feature were hidden underneath a layer of slightly oversized clothing, the sense of object permanence held Cait's attention.

She hadn't spoken much since joining the small entourage, save to introduce herself. The Fae made her admittedly nervous to speak for fear of cutting across as unwelcoming or rude; Vincent was a good few years her senior and, while friendly, seemd to march to the beat of a very differnt drum with his more hands-do-the-talking, mildly roughneck demeanor. Anita was the one Caitlin had spoken to most between the three; a week prior, in Tempe, Arizona she had noticed Cait and determined her to be another "one of their kind," offering the company and companionship of the ride in Vince's truck. Cait remained grateful to Anita for the kindness, and being of simmilar age, it hadn't been too hard for Cait to relate to her.

Veering off onto the exit, the truck gave a lurch, hitting a small bump. Cait moved to grasp her belongings more tightly, psychically pulling her two effects back towards herself. Her hands wrapped firmly around a brown, canvas backpack, and the trucks of a skateboard that had seen better days. Cait pulled the backpack in tightly to her chest, the smell of her "every other day" set of clothes permeating throught the fabric, causing her nose to wrinkle, and her to hope that they'd make a quick beeline to a laundromat, and maybe a consignment shop for a cheap few pairs of socks and underwear. Her board felt ready to come undone as she reeled it in, but stayed together by a mircale. Her bag set beside her, she busied herself by fidgeting with her skateboard: spinning the worn out wheels that ground against rusting trucks, and picking at what was left of the griptape while being thankful that the deck, save for some chipped and fading on the artwork on the underside, was still intact.

The truck slowed and pulled into a stop outside of a gas station and diner.

Cait slide her board back, attempting to keep it as close to unseen as she could by tucking it under her bag. From her bag, she pulled out a thickly packed roll of cannabis flower and a lighter. Savoring the moment, she lit the joint and drew a massive inhale off one of two smokes left from the stash she had picked up in Boulder a month ago. She cocked her head towards the the window behind her and reached over her shoulder, offering the joint to Vincent and Anita. "You reckon they got a skate shop in Eureka Springs?" she asked casually. "Could do to get my board fixed up if I've got the time." If the truck was going to be getting fixed up for the next leg, she couldn't see much reason why she couldn't do the same for her board; after all, it was her much-needed hobby, and the trio had seemed to take at least some amusement in watching her roll and pop tricks during previous rest stops.

She turned back to the bed, her hand still outstretch offering the smoke and lighter to the driver and shotgun. Cleo had spoken as the truck rolled into a gas station. Cait didn't get it entirely but replied anyways. "You... you can sense that?" was all Cait could think to say in response.

"Oh..."

Cait took the joint back from Anita; she offered to Vincent a second time, but withdrew after he declined. She took a second hit before snuffing out the end and pocketing it alongside the lighter.

She turned to Cleo and returned a nod of understanding and trust; the Fae-person was more in tune nature than she, as a human felt capable of being.

She looked longingly at the board by her feet as she stood up. It had been a few days since she had ridden it; the wear and tear and weeks without repair had left it both unsafe, and unrepairable if she overdid, which was more than likely since she had been prone to making up for lost time since joining with Vince's crew. A closer look at the town around them told her they'd be lucky to find much more than the diner and maybe a bar around town. She'd have to wait until they came to a larger town or a proper city before she'd get the board back to form.

She shrugged, sighed, and climbed out from the bed of the truck, sliding gently down the side until her feet touched the ground. Jogging a short way, she caught up with Cleo and Anita and followed them to the diner. "I think you gotta go more north to see the corn fields," she said, pitching a response to Anita. "Kansas, Nebraska." Her stomach grumbled. "Yeah. Food first," she agreed, and entered diner where Vincent had already claimed a seat.

Stepping around Cleo, she seated herself in the booth across from Vince. "I imagine," she said, "if he wanted to be alone, he wouldn't be letting three other people ride cross-country in his truck. Just a guess." She gestured for Cleo to join. "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to plan where we're headed to next."

Cait skimmed through her menu as Vincent mused about ditching the states. The thought had crossed her mind just before she joined him a few states back. Crossing the Atlantic seemed like a pipe dream. Canada was enticing, though she preferred not to venture there if only for the fact that it would mean having to endure winter at some point; she'd only use Canada as a stepping stone to go elsewhere. She nodded in silent agreement when Anita suggested counting it out as an option.

She made a second nod before looking to the server. "I'll just have the chicken tenders and fries. Ranch dressing on the side... and a sweet tea for a drink... and waters for the table please." She handed him the menu and turned back to Vincent.

"We'll need some money if we're gonna get out of the States." She spoke matter-of-factly. Her left hand drifted to her pocket, where her wallet was tucked in a closed zipper. She had pulled most of her savings before she bailed from California; it was best to do it first, so They wouldn't be able to pin her movements across the country through card swipes. It was still fat and full, as she had been meticulous about not spending unless it was for food and water. She had to make it last as best she could. "And by a little, I mean a lot. Especially if we're gonna try to cross the ocean. Moreso if we want pay under the table... which we probably should." Cait had made good on her resolve to not leave an electronic footprint, and she wasn't about to back down from that.

She leaned back and stretched her back against the booth seat. "I say, if we're gonna make tracks to another country, we dip to Mexico."