Malcolm Bright

Raylan had found that sometimes, a very rare sometimes, short range plans were a good thing. A decent breakfast was more than enough to motivate Raylan to get through it. Even if he didn't need any additional motivation beyond what Malcolm had already put under his belt.

"Nice place," he quipped sincerely as they made their way through the hallways, giving up his gun to the attending guard in the outer layers with a promise that he'd be coming back for that. Raylan glanced at Malcolm as the Riot Act of rules was read to him, faintly lifting his eyebrows in something akin to being impressed. This place was just as worried as Malcolm was.

Finally, they were let into the end room and Raylan only gave Martin a once glance over before his eyes were busy with the rest of the room. "Another bookshelf," he muttered, ambling over, one hand propping on his hip as he started to run a gentle finger over the spines. He reacted to the hum with a half distracted glance over his shoulder before responding.

"Not this time. Least not yet," he addendum with a faint facial shrug as he moved on to idly picking over Martin's desk with a critical eye. "You got a lotta papers here. I'm gussin' surgical records? I hear you're still big in that department, despite your.." Raylan glanced around, one finger turning to gesture broadly to the room. "Living arrangments."