the amount of times he's had to throw away an old phone, or use a different number and profider, as well as use a burner phone, were innumerable due to his part with organized crime. unlike locke, there was no way he's memorizing his current number.

priam takes out his phone, only to look back to locke's pokenav. "heh, that's pretty old," he commented. there's something charming about it that keeps him entranced at the sight. memories of old he'd buried deep resurface one by one before they are interrupted by an attack.

"oh shit, take care of it for me zory!"

a togekiss swoops in from above and attempts to do a drive-by on their party. the zoroark blasts it down with a quick sludge bomb that causes it to crash down the ground.

priam takes a pokeball to capture it on its vulnerable status.

as he types in the number given to him by locke and his zoroark picking up the ball, a cry of some sort of large pokemon reverberates throughout the area. priam has means to handle them, or at least he has confidence to, though it doesn't that there's a reason to do so.

a storm of leaves from way within start to pelt them.

"retreat! retreat!" priam shouts as he runs away. "i'll send ya a message later for my number!" he tells locke before he disappears.