He should be resting up, not running around the house doing errands. Especially not projects that involve heavy lifting and hard work, straining himself like that. He's out of his mind if he thinks he can get back into the fray within 3 weeks, let alone if he don't spend that 3 weeks putting his feet up and tending to his wound properly.
"Cryin' shame they didn't get one in the face," Doc teases with a sigh. He closes the door behind himself and walks in, taking a quick look around the place just to be sure that he's not interrupting anything. It's the time of year where he might be interrupting things, or so he's been told on numerous occasions. He needs to undispense with the formalities, call ahead, make an appointment, and not on certain days that are unofficially designated for family. He would have heeded said decorum too, but even with Raylan on speed dial, he struggles to work the phone.
"Looks like I got you alone," he muses as he steps in further to leave the get well whiskey on the countertop. "The fare was exorbitant, as a matter of fact. But everything's exorbitant these days. I am older than paper money, you know." Food and lodging and all manner of things used to cost a few coins. Now everything's in the hundreds, thousands, money you can't even see in a plastic card, on your phone. It's hard to keep up.
"I ain't complaining. Would've taken me weeks on a horse. And probably cost more staying at inns along the way." Of course, there would have been gambling, and women, and other entertainment along the way that might have offset some of the cost, but would have definitely significantly slowed him down.
"That said, I wouldn't mind if I could stay and help out, unless you're expecting anyone else," Doc offers. He wouldn't overstay his welcome, but if there's no one else coming, he would much rather stick around until Raylan's recovered some more. "Terrible business, being alone and out of action in a big old house, cleaning your own blood up." Even though his smile reaches his eyes, there's an unmistakeable tinge of sadness in his voice.
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"Cryin' shame they didn't get one in the face," Doc teases with a sigh. He closes the door behind himself and walks in, taking a quick look around the place just to be sure that he's not interrupting anything. It's the time of year where he might be interrupting things, or so he's been told on numerous occasions. He needs to undispense with the formalities, call ahead, make an appointment, and not on certain days that are unofficially designated for family. He would have heeded said decorum too, but even with Raylan on speed dial, he struggles to work the phone.
"Looks like I got you alone," he muses as he steps in further to leave the get well whiskey on the countertop. "The fare was exorbitant, as a matter of fact. But everything's exorbitant these days. I am older than paper money, you know." Food and lodging and all manner of things used to cost a few coins. Now everything's in the hundreds, thousands, money you can't even see in a plastic card, on your phone. It's hard to keep up.
"I ain't complaining. Would've taken me weeks on a horse. And probably cost more staying at inns along the way." Of course, there would have been gambling, and women, and other entertainment along the way that might have offset some of the cost, but would have definitely significantly slowed him down.
"That said, I wouldn't mind if I could stay and help out, unless you're expecting anyone else," Doc offers. He wouldn't overstay his welcome, but if there's no one else coming, he would much rather stick around until Raylan's recovered some more. "Terrible business, being alone and out of action in a big old house, cleaning your own blood up." Even though his smile reaches his eyes, there's an unmistakeable tinge of sadness in his voice.