He's banged up - nothing really serious, a graze from a bullet on his forehead, a shallow slash across his ribs. He's limping slightly. But he's angry, now - he's burning and that's enough to keep him going.

He catches sight of her through the trees and breaks into a loose jog.

"Hey, Andrea!" he calls.

Jess is with Rachel and Raylan takes a chance to go wandering. He takes his rifle, on its strap over his shoulder, his hat on the back of his head. He doesn't know if he'll actually bother hunting and, honestly, what he's looking for isn't prey. He knows her well enough to figure out where she might be.

And he's got a question that needs asking. He's been giving it some thought.
He can't actually remember the last time that he made a friend he doesn't work with.

Which matters, somehow.
It really does.

There's so much about this month that's pissing him off. The fact that he can't work on the house pisses him off. The clothes piss him off. The weather pisses him off. Abot the only thing that's good about this month is being around Rachel.

Coming in out of the cold, he shuts the door behind him and shrugs out of his coat.

"Rach?"