(no subject)

[scurlock]

He's sitting at a table with a good view of the bar, taking time to look through a pair of leather saddlebags that sit on the tabletop; anything that he intends to take with him when he heads out tomorrow morning needs to be checked over. His knife needs to be sharpened; the boxes of ammunition need to be inspected; his foodstuffs need to be packed away so that they won't spoil; maps need to be examined and a route plotted.

At the moment, he's got a pair of his corduroy trousers spread out, and is working on stitching a patch into the side of the right thigh, mending a good-sized tear.

There's a bourbon on the rocks sweating at his elbow as he works; he's finished half of it so far, but give him time. He'll get through it.


[Open until I say it's not; I'll be putting Doc out for some OOMery soon and this is your chance to catch him before he heads out.]

Comments

[katyafeline]

"You command respect only through a suitable length of denim?" She asks archly, plucking one of the bullets free from its box and spinning it along her fingers.