Homeless Paul wakes up to a noise outside his tent.

*CLANK* *CLANK*

Paul's eyes shoot open and he grabs the knife he keeps under his makeshift pillow. "Something's out there" he thinks. There's plenty of light shining through the tent canvas, so it must still be daytime. Scanning around he sees a vaguely humanoid shadow outside.

"Musta came from the on-ramp" One of the first tricks he learned when he first lost his livelihood was to scatter cans and bottles around his home to serve as an alarm. It has saved his life more times than he can count, and it looks like today might be another time.

Lately Paul had been riding high, he's got 200 bucks stashed around here he won last night at the casino. Knowing he can see the stranger's shadow but they can't see him in the tent, he sits upright knife in hand and watches them. "Maybe just passing by." he thinks, sometimes people just want to get past his spot to visit the creek nearby.