Thank God, John would never want to be a local to somewhere other than London. Oh, sure, Mathias had a sort of eerie charm about her. But, he wasn't planning on knockin' boots with her any day soon. Or, ever.

He tilted his head back at the state of the lighthouse. There was a click of his tongue. Ah, yes. Not quite the bane of his existence, but enough of a pain in the arse that John wouldn't mind breaking a few things in it. Just to make his point known. He followed right behind Raylan, hands in his pockets, edges of his trenchcoat brushing against the snow.

"Yeah. Walked out the front door, mate."