"As I recall you were the one asking about our weights," he teases, holding his hat in one hand and brushing the dirt off of it with the other. He's in a good enough mood for now, but there's no guarantees how many more minutes that would last.

"I'm old as shit." But, thanks for asking about him Raylan. After adjusting his hat, Doc pulls his flashlight out, clicking it on. He shines it on Raylan's legs and torso for a couple of seconds before the light beam sweeps over down one side of the tunnel, and then the other.

"Can't see shit either," he grumbles. The light didn't reach as far as it ought to. While the tunnel seems empty save for the two of them, it's giving him a bad feeling like the museum did, in her all-consuming darkness. No spores, but. Doesn't mean they won't come upon any if they wander far enough.

"Left or right? Whenever you're ready." Up isn't really an option anymore.