“I tend to stick with the streets. Roof tops sometimes.”

Amber felt a pang of sorrow at those words. Why did the world have to be such a cruel place as to force someone to live in the streets just because they looked different than the average person? Most humans probably didn't even understand that a direct effect of their dislike of mutants was the fact that some of them were forced to live in a way that many would find despicable. There was a small number, of course, that actively preferred it that way and would, if given the opportunity, even go so far as to try to eradicate mutants off the face of the earth, but that wasn't most. Most, in her own experience, would just prefer to never see or deal with mutants directly. They were uncomfortable or fearful or maybe even disliked them, but didn't actively wish ill will upon them. What they didn't realize was that such an attitude was almost as bad as those who were more militant in their dislike because it was that attitude that caused so many countless mutants to suffer every single day of their lives. Just because it wasn't intentionally didn't negate their guilt in the situation.

"I live in a p-place called Sanctuary. Its kind of a mutant shelter. If you w-want I can bring you there. There's food and you can have you're own room and everything." Amber's eyes met those of her fellow mutant without flinching. Why should she flinch, after all? Just because he looked a little different? Her own adopted father, Abyss, looked every bit as unusual as the man before her, with his bright red skin and long tail. Then there was her own self with her paper white skin and pitch black eyes. It was more subtle, maybe, but every bit the mark of her own inhumanity. Even his earlier devouring of the dog didn't phase her, as unusual a method of eating as it was. Just because her kills were done with the more conventional methods of teeth and claws didn't really make a whole lot of difference in the end. A predator was a predator and they both shared that heritage. That and the fact that they could both change shape, as different as their shape shifting might be from one another.

"My name's Amber. D-do you have a name?" Amber extended her hand to see if the mutant before her would accept and shake it. If not it wasn't as if she'd be offended, many mutants didn't particularly like physical contact but it was her way of showing that she wasn't afraid and she wasn't going to judge. It wasn't his fault that he looked how he did anymore than it was her fault for not being able to go out into the sunlight. Sometimes being a mutant was a blessing beyond compare and sometimes it was a curse. She was just starting to learn that the difference between the two often came down to one's own mindset and how one lived with the hand one was dealt.

There was a look of pity on the girl’s face. Although he couldn’t say that he was that thrilled to see it, he couldn’t deny that it felt good to see someone who could at least understand what it was like to be him. No one likes pity, but sometimes a little sympathy can go a long way.

However, nothing had grabbed his attention more that night then the mention of a place called “Sanctuary.” He had steered clear of shelters this entire time. They carried with them a mood that, for him, was less desirable then the streets. And of course, there were the people. The ones you couldn’t hide from, and the ones that you don’t usually want to spend time with. At least on the street, if you happened upon someone like that, you could always keep walking, even if that meant walking through them. In a shelter, you were following someone else’s rules, playing on their field. That was a setting that Shane just couldn’t see himself backing. But a shelter designed for mutants? That seemed to be a whole new thing. There was an inherent danger to it that came with putting the same types of people he wanted to avoid in a room together and then throwing in some super powers for good measure. However, if the kind of sympathy Amber was demonstrating was a common trait to everyone at this place, then it couldn’t really be that bad.

“Tell me more about this place.” He asked. He was finally completely relaxed, and his body demonstrated it. His voice had little to no indications of fear or distrust any longer. His posture was far less standoffish as well. If anything, he was leaning in with an interest in what she was saying now. His hand that he had been keeping ready as a weapon was now relaxing as well. All appeared to be calm. He was beginning to trust this girl.

As he looked at Amber, he quickly evaluated his situation. He was reaching a point of no return, if he didn’t leave soon, he might as well embrace the situation. He took his one last deep breath, and then fumbled out the words, “Could you take me there?” He felt that this place was important, and that if nothing else, knowing where it is could only be a benefit to him. But he simply couldn’t ignore the fact that having a bed to sleep on would be one of the most wonderful experiences he’d had in a long time, and if running as a dinosaur could rummage up old memories of his child hood, this possibilities of a bed were endless. Seeing what this place was all about was something that needed to happen.