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It was a calm after a storm. Doc was even a bit withdrawn after his rage but he just genty nodded to Thing, "Now you understand why I didn't want to say a word. If you had signed as many death certificates, had to give the bad news to a grieving mother and bury as many people as I have, you would understand how I feel as I do."
He managed a weak smile, "I don't want you to violate the laws of your people by protecting someone who would be a criminal as I probably would be labeled by the Rogues. I don't want you getting hurt because of it."
He turned to the bar, pouring himself another drink, this time black Grog. He looked at the glass before he consumed it, swirling it within. He remembered the last time he consumed it. He weakly smirked at her and spoke in Latin, "Et non est quod velit." He then shot the whole glass, placing the now empty glass on the table. He went to reach for the bottle but stopped, almost compromising with himself. Rather, he went back to the window and looked out, his hand in front of him, his head beginning to feel relaxed.
![[Image: 7Md2x4D.png]](https://i.imgur.com/7Md2x4D.png)