Malcolm Bright

"Clearly." Raylan's smile and eyes were tighter with that remark, his smile fractionally cooler. The fact that he remained standing would answer Martin's invitation, though he did amble a few steps that way so as to keep Martin in a respectable distance.

"Fairly well, considering that Quarles was starting to slit his throat. High praise, killing your favorite psychos only son." The coolness had spread, leaving Raylan with a serious expression, one that could clearly go either way - hard or equally affable, depending on Martin's answer. He didn't much care for losing teammates.