Huffing a chuckle at the clap on his shoulder, he takes a sip of his whiskey, bearing his teeth a little a he swallows it down. Leaning onto the bar on his elbow, he turns his attention back onto her briefly before the bartender returned with the towel full of ice. Raylan takes it and pauses to lift his glass with a bob of his head.

"Here's hopin' tonight is otherwise 'pop free'." His glass is lifted a little, and he takes another drink because he did, oddly, sort of believe in the superstitions around cheering and not taking a drink, but it was followed by the towel of ice being held out to her.

"We don't get many tattoo'd redheads out here; where you comin' from?" No body who looked like her came from here; he'd know.