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Fact: In Doc Potter's arms is a remarkably runty little demon rabbit.

Fact: Doc Potter's hands are suffering from first-degree burns, and his sleeves are singed.

Fact: The demon bunny is, even more remarkably, asleep, and has a muzzle firmly affixed on its snout.

Fact: Doc Potter looks about thisclose to conking out.

Fact: Never before in his life has Doc Potter ever attempted to adopt/domesticate an animal.

Probable: He wouldn't mind a decent conversation.

[ tiny tag with an adopted bunny: doc potter
tiny tag with a bum leg: dan evans
tiny tag that's nonplussed as all hell: ben wade ]

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"Uh."

Beat.

"Don't believe so."

"Oh aye, ye always takin' care o'strays?"

"I -- I guess," Doc says, a little sheepishly.

"'S my job."

"What's yer job then?"

"Uh."

A beat, and Doc laughs to himself.

"Doctor. More specifically, vet."

"Na sure what that means."

"I look after animals."

"Ye're a farrier?"

"You could say that."

"Pays 'nough for ye to just care for animals?"

"It's enough -- it's just me I'm takin' care of, anyhow."

"Oh aye, ye spokin' to Doc who runs the stables 'ere?"

"Haven't actually -- sounds like I should, though."

"Good friend o'mine an think 'e's from round yer time."

"I'll, uh -- I'll look for him, some time."

"'e's got blond 'air an is usually out there, 'e an Billy the kid rode together."

Potter nods.

"Like I said, I'll keep an eye out."

"Good, aught else that I can do for ye?"

"Uhh."

This requires some thought.

"Has anyone -- taken care of one of these before?"

"Nay, I dinna think so mean they're vicious bastards who can breath fire."

Doc can't help a quick, nervous laugh.

"Well," he says, looking over at the basket, "We'll see if I can't do anything about this one."

"Just long as ye dinna 'urt yerself too much."

"I'll try."

"Aye, good."

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