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Jamal paused at the very edges of where the waves assaulted the beach, thinking clearly enough to know that it probably wasn't a good idea to go too deep or he'd get swamped by a wave. He felt shitty, but he sure as hell wasn't suicidal.

After cautiously wading in to about mid-shin, he stooped over to use his hands to free the mud and debris from his legs. It was difficult because of the abrupt water-level changes due to the waves, but he managed to get most of it off. Once that was done, he shucked off his jeans, leaving the boxers on, and gave them a vigorous rubbing underneath the water in hopes of getting them a little cleaner than they were. By now, the jeans were more shorts than anything, the knees so torn out from the pant's brief stint of rock-transporting.

God he hoped this bullshit with the labs was cleared up soon...he didn't even want to think about what his hair looked like right now, nor the fact that he was certain that all the food he had stolen from the cafeteria was positively rancid there in his duplex. He missed his room, his music, his bed, and his pot.

As he stood, he glanced towards the beach bar out of reflex, and saw Antony rummaging around for something. Hmmph. Maybe her new friend would help. He gave her a pointed glare from where he stood, but didn't care if she saw it or not.

He put his jeans back on and left the ocean, caring little that he was now getting sandy (once it dried, it'd fall off cleaner than mud would), and went to investigate the contraption over the damaged fire, catching a sniff of something smokesque on the air. Maybe the fire had faired better than he thought if it could still produce smoke. He didn't think much else of it until he reached the pit.

The once-blazing fire was nothing more than a soft sizzling pile of ash and soggy wood, hardly smoke-producing material. There were still hot coals, at least. Maybe if the rain let up, he could start the fire up again. Oddly enough, the scent of smoke lingered in his nose that he had at first thought to be from this fire, but now he could get an afterscent of tobacco from it. Again he looked up out of habit; Antony had to be smoking 'something'.

Jamal's brows shifted from a position of curiousity to a position of being knit ever so slightly, giving his overall expression an icy quality when his gaze also lost it's objective concern over the fire and narrowed.

"I managed jus' fine," he said flatly, turning his gaze away from her to prod at the coals with a stick that remained in the kindling pile in a feigned attempt to perhaps kick-start the flames. "I helped build da damn pit, rememba'? I know where it be."

He realized how pointless it was to mess with the fire, since it continued to rain, but it gave him something to do while he contemplated his options. The offer to come in out of the rain did little to brighten his spirits. Yeah, he'd probably eventually end up in the bar, but not under circumstances he was happy with.

"Yeah, well I feel like s**t," he retorted bluntly as water dripped down his face, throwing the stick carelessly off into exile on the beach again as he left what remained of the little fire shelter. She did have a point in that he would get sick if he stayed out in the rain much longer...he was probably already screwed on that aspect though, being that he spent the night in this.

The fact that he hadn't seen further sign of the strange man was about the only thing that gave him any sort of urge to join Antony under the roof of the bar. Hopefully he wouldn't come back.

Her final question was ignored pointedly, though he heard it easily enough as it was voiced as he came closer to the bar, and instead went to brush the sand off his legs. His patience with that didn't last long so he gave up quickly and took a seat on the concrete, displeasure at the hard surface evident as he tapped a hand on the 'floor' and gave a silent snarl. Jamal didn't seem to care that his jeans were soaked and dripping puddles on the floor.

His eyes had grown distant as he stared out towards the ocean again with his back to her, whiskers drawn in against his cheeks as his skin goosebumped from the chill of the ocean wind on his soggy form. The odd silence that fell suited him well enough; he could sit out of the rain and not have to talk. That was just fine and dandy.

But apparently that wasn't going to be the case. His eyes narrowed and rolled a bit as she started to gripe about his jeans and him being cold. That didn't bring a comment out of the man, but the jerky comment sparked his tongue before he could think better of it.

"Oh? I thought maybe ya mighta given it all away since ya like bein' so nice ta complete strangers."

Jamal rolled his eyes and kept his face towards the ocean, biting his tongue to attempt to hold back a snapping remark. It was -really- hard to explain why exactly he was mad. It wasn't jealousy, persay...if Jamal knew the guy, it would be different...but it was like this guy just sauntered in and took something from him. As far as the tiger in Jamal's mind, Antony was 'his' in the sense that Rex invaded his territory without permission. Jamal was up for sharing if he knew what was going on but he wanted it on his terms at least. When he came to the camp last night, he expected things to go as they normally did, and when he found out that wasn't the case, it wasn't appreciated. To further insult to injury, the stranger was fully-human and part of him wanted to bring that up. Either way, he felt brushed aside.

"Well ain't he lucky ta jus' wander ova' herr then 'n' get all fixed up. Woulda been a shame if he got some help from one of us freaks," Jamal said with a sarcastic laugh. "It must be nice ta be able to mistake someone fo' something as normal as some famous b*****d. Can't mistake someone like me fo' anyone like dat no mo'. Stars don't got ******** up faces and hands, hm?" Nevermind my sorry black a** was out in the jungle in this shitty storm and you didn't seem worried, he added privately.

The dating comment brought out an irritable snarl. He was well aware of that fact and liked it that way. Not that it mattered; he wasn't getting any action on the side anyway, so it wasn't like it was put to full advantage. He still had expectations...perhaps ones that he wasn't aware about until now, but expectations none-the-less.

The touch at his back made him exhale noisily and shrug away on impulse. Irritated Jamal + tiger instinct = no touchie.

If she was asking him for a serious answer, she would have better luck asking the sand or the discarded palm fronds that lay abandoned by the pile of fire rubble. It didn't make complete sense to himself as he thought about all of this as a rational human being, yet the feelings of resentment and being tossed aside were there. It was a weird sense of betrayal that he wished he could explain but he couldn't and his clenched his fists in frustration over the situation, hiding them in his lap to hopefully stem any further conflict dealing with violence. As she grew irritated, he grew more frustrated and angry in response.

Oddly enough, the concept of 'friend' wasn't really something that meant a whole lot like it should...he had 'friends' in the gang, but those were people who, at the moment, weren't out to kill you. That status could change real fast. He didn't expect Antony to act like that (though the sudden choking experience could be debated on). He knew she meant something different when she said the word friend and he was trying to adjust his thinking, but his violent tendancies and frustrations were only being exagerrated by the foriegn thoughts interjected by his transformation which inevitably skewed his thinking.

Everything was fine before his thoughts could so easily be twisted by the predator's instincts and it even was worse when he couldn't see how and why he thought as he did at times.

"I don't know!" he finally growled in exasperation, throwing his arms up in a helpless gesture. "I don't know what you're gonna do or why you do things anymo' sumtimes. It don't all work out right in ma head 'n' I don't know why. I came outta dat ********' jungle lookin' for a place ta sleep 'n' I expected dat I'd be able ta do what I wanted wit'out a problem but I come out 'n' I see some strange ******** all cozy in a spot I figgered I'd have waitin' 'n' it didn't work right in ma head."

He rubbed at his face carelessly, nearly gouging a chunk out of his forehead with his claws and gave a 'murrph' of general dissatisfaction.

He dropped his arms haphazardly back into his lap, still less than pleased over everything. He didn't feel like she -really- understood, but was making a show of doing the opposite so he'd leave the topic alone. Jamal wanted to argue, but now his physical exhaustion was surpasing his urge to cause more complications, and he closed his eyes there as he sat on the hard concrete. Surely being tired didn't help the situation.

Her last question garnered a mumbled "I don't care" and slumped over tiredly a bit, which could have been an answer to the question or a general, broad statement about all of what was going on. Jamal felt like he was getting dumber as the days passed and today only seemed to solidfy that theory.