[She slumps over, and he can't resist joining her. He's still carrying both guns, though, and has to remove those first if he's to have any hope of comfort. He takes his jacket off, tucks the pistols into it on the ground next to him, then sinks down onto the leaves and presses close against her side. He reaches an arm across her waist, and rests his head against her shoulder.]

Maybe. Depends on what year it is. All this does. But I'm really lookin' forward to bein' back in a big city, either way about it. This small town rural shit's kinda a drag after a while, especially where we keep windin' up in bullshit years. Better not get another one where someone tries to kick me outta a restaurant or I might have to stab some asshole in the face.

[Tequila makes him talkative even as he's feeling like he might fall asleep soon, apparently.]