It was a desperate scramble to scrape and clutch up the fracturing parts of him, all the ones that he'd superglued back into place time and again here, from his first cry out for Boyd like the hillbilly was gonna be his savior in the dark like he had so many years ago, to his latest screaming match out on the cliffs. Mathis had taken 'Always Be Cool' out back and beaten it black and blue. His cool could only take so much, could only last so long before the human underneath cracked out like a fucked up hillbilly kraken.

There was no fight in him against being collected, though his hands didn't move and he couldn't tell if the wetness on his cheeks was from the storm or not. Definitely from the storm for the official record, if anyone should ask. A bent leg accounted for what bend Raylan's position would allow and he took a good fifteen seconds before he trusted his voice to come out in anything resembling a level tone.

"I hate this place so fuckin' much." Not as much as he hated living in Arlo's, but it was starting to get close. "A goddamned breeze is enough to rip people away here, we got no idea where anyone else is or how many of 'em we're gonna havta bury tomorrow if we're not in some new kinda hellscape." One hand fisted and punched forward into Tim's shoulder but without any real space, it was useless until Raylan slid the hand up over Tim's shoulder to drag the wet fabric into his fist like it would stop Tim from having fallen at all.

"S'not okay to hurt, not here, not at home, is it. Mathis feeds off it and it eats me alive there if I let it settle. What the fuck were we thinkin' tryin' to scale a goddamn clifface in this weather." What he was was scared. Both for himself and for Tim and for whatever else Mathis held for them and the strength it would take to face it without folding like a cheap suit. Raylan knew he could do it but goddamn it was hard.