"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be considered 'every day', neither. Think you're on your own with that one, Marshal." Sometimes Doc does enjoy the limelight, and he likes being special. Sometimes he shies away from it. But the fact of the matter is, just because it's easy to forget he's more than a century and a half old sometimes doesn't mean that Doc is any less strange than the other people or the other things that are happening in this town. At least he is able to be an anomaly that Raylan can blend into. Surely two cowboys don't stick out more than just the one.
"Sometimes you cannot protect them from everything, hard as you may try." Sometimes you are the problem that you are trying to protect someone else from. Doc understands that too. He doesn't quite make eye contact as he holds his mug out for an unhealthy ration of moonshine. He would never risk asking if it is maybe too much or perhaps too early or say or do anything other than bring his drink in close once Raylan has finished pouring and peering into his rippling reflection before taking a drink.
"I think we're in the same boat for that. Not mattering much what we would do." Doc is actively rejecting the notion of making any plans beyond taking things one day at a time. Maybe decisions will be made that will require his input. Maybe there will be none. He is not allowing himself to get involved any more than he already has. For Doc it is not a matter of sticking his head in the sand as much as it is not wanting to meddle in something that, for better or worse, he doesn't feel is his place to interfere in. But maybe Raylan does perceive this very conscious, deliberate distancing as strange.
"Well if we can survive living on this I'm pretty sure we're set to survive this place at least," Doc jokes, lifting his glass of moonshine to gesture at what good shit he is referring to, changing the subject again to more neutral, friendly banter territory. "Whatever else is waiting for us back home, however we get there, it's a whole other problem for another day."
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"Sometimes you cannot protect them from everything, hard as you may try." Sometimes you are the problem that you are trying to protect someone else from. Doc understands that too. He doesn't quite make eye contact as he holds his mug out for an unhealthy ration of moonshine. He would never risk asking if it is maybe too much or perhaps too early or say or do anything other than bring his drink in close once Raylan has finished pouring and peering into his rippling reflection before taking a drink.
"I think we're in the same boat for that. Not mattering much what we would do." Doc is actively rejecting the notion of making any plans beyond taking things one day at a time. Maybe decisions will be made that will require his input. Maybe there will be none. He is not allowing himself to get involved any more than he already has. For Doc it is not a matter of sticking his head in the sand as much as it is not wanting to meddle in something that, for better or worse, he doesn't feel is his place to interfere in. But maybe Raylan does perceive this very conscious, deliberate distancing as strange.
"Well if we can survive living on this I'm pretty sure we're set to survive this place at least," Doc jokes, lifting his glass of moonshine to gesture at what good shit he is referring to, changing the subject again to more neutral, friendly banter territory. "Whatever else is waiting for us back home, however we get there, it's a whole other problem for another day."