Jax shakes her hand, glad for someone who's at least 1) American and 2) not put off by, well, him. There's a lot of people here who seem to be from some other time and place and they give him the side eye when he's just being himself. He's not in the business of trying to pretend to be anyone other than who he fucking is.

"Jax Teller. Good to meet you. And yeah, pretty sure nobody's gonna try and down that goddamn moose. I don't think bow and arrow's going to do the trick. Probably bounce right off it." Jax eyes the bigger one, especially the rack on it. He prefers racks on women, not moose.

"I'm from California, we don't go moose hunting."