It was shining sun. The day was warm, the roads had started to dry out and firm up (Probably oughta dig a few spare graves) and there was no reason for Raylan Givens to have such a dour, unintentionally firm expression on his face as he stalked in from his exploratory adventure from the chasm. Except all he could think about was how he was going to go call a young girl into something he likely had no business pulling her into but.. The Chasm needed to be crossed. He'd promised that she could help when the fog pushed back enough to let them, she knew the risks. Would resent the protection if she was told no.

Death was something they could deal with. If they had to. It was for a good cause... That would be a good enough reason, right?

He was lost in his thoughts, secure enough in the assurance for the day that Mathis wasn't going to fuck with him too hard to get lost in the easy stride that looked uneven from a distance but every land of his foot was right in line. It didn't put his head any less on a swivel, but it did let him glance at faces without automatically assuming they were going to be a threat.

So Raylan glanced, but the rough features and frame of the man coming towards him earned a doubletake as the cowboy rolled to a stop, hand propping on his hip, hazel eyes narrowed as he tried to determine what he was looking at. After a few seconds of deliberation, (The others haven't been around and we're not ass deep in fog, but that doesn't mean I'm not hallucinating. Is that a guitar?) Raylan lifted his chin and headed to intercept the man.

"You look-" Holy shit, exactly like he used to. Raylan's head pulled back a little in suspicion as he continued. He'd been polite enough to not poke the Darkling, but some dude wearing his face gave him rights some rights he might not have otherwise. A verification poke was going to have to come.

"Lost." He looked down, eyebrows lifting as he looked back up. "And barefoot."