Doc was going to swallow tin shards at this point, but Raylan was too far into his own anger to say as much, to return to the small talk starting to creep into their conversation.

If Doc wanted to keep up, he'd better hoof it.

"I am not gettin' stuck down here; I wanted to stop - you didn't, so we're not, keep up," he snapped. "If we're smart, we can make a half map of what's in front of us. Like hell I'm just going to sit down somewhere and die or soak in panic. We ain't go no food, no heat. We need to keep moving, right?"

There was some danger to be sensed when Raylan stopped dropping his G's, a note of steel wall that he normally only took with northerners; a clear indication of how hot under the collar he was.