Mateo waits for the person who called him to arrive, wanting to buy some custom shoot-sticks, or arrows as normal people called them.
He has sitting on the counter about twenty different shafts, of different wood materials, different flexibility, all depending on the style of shot you were. He has them spread out, ready for inspection, and has a variety of heads from man-stopper flat tips, to extra lethal razor edge serrated ones.
He steps out front, lighting a smoke and waiting for Kyle to arrive, and maybe get lucky and have others come in wanting some stuff made, if all went well. He needed the business, it was always good to have more customers.