<span style="font-size: 115%; line-height: 116%;">Jacob's eyes held an intensity behind them, unwavering and solemn. The bright blues accentuated by the dark of his fatigued eyelids were piercing, and the rest of his expression was one of extremely firm order. He made it quite clear in few words that he hadn't come to this godforsaken town to watch his friend throw his life away, no matter what reasons the other man may have had. Retaliation to an assault was one thing; Jacob did not disagree that the man whose life was being drained by Logan's vice-like grip deserved physical punishment. Swinging at an unarmed man with a weapon was cowardly, and attacking someone who was attempting to defend another despicable. Justice was necessary, lessons needed to be learned. But what good was a lesson learned if their life was to end? Especially over something as admittedly trivial as an in the end harmless harassment? Jacob held little pity for the man because of what he had done, but he wished not for Logan to suffer the consequences of what he was trying to do.<br/><br/>His reasoning was heeded, and Logan let the man go. Jacob's eyes slowly closed for a moment as a deep exhale escaped his nose. Tension had not ended completely, but at least he wasn't about to be part of a murder scene. When he opened them again, he was met with the sight of Logan threatening the worker and delivering a swift strike to his side. A quiet grunt of amusement came out of Jacob's throat, though he said nothing to either of them. Instead, he took hold of his bat again, and placing the flat against the sidewalk he pushed himself onto his foot. A few moments of pause tested the steadiness of his false limb, and when he was satisfied with it, he placed it firmly on the floor and slung the bat onto his shoulders, draping it across the back of his neck to hold both ends.<br/><br/>Keeping close to Logan, he limped away from the scene, taking a last glance back at the breathless prick they were leaving behind. A small spot of blood stained concrete red near the aggressor, which then drew Jacob's attention to his friend's head. The wound on it was unpleasant looking. Blood on the side of Logan's face made Jacob's stomach churn, a rolling nausea stirring his midsection. Instinctively, he swallowed saliva, trying to keep down what may have potentially been coming up. It wasn't a very bad injury, but blood still disquieted him. Luckily, Logan managed to form some coherent words. No lasting concussions from the wound made themselves apparent quite yet. And what a wonderful suggestion it was. The sooner removed from the near-ghostly town the pair were, the better.<br/><br/>"Gladly," Jacob dully responded. He tilted his head to crack his neck while he walked, eyes forward on the horizon. Logan's quip about the goal of their excursion was amusing enough to make Jacob smile and briefly chuckle. A genuine, if short display. "Trust me, if there wasn't <span style="font-style: italic">something</span> out here worth taking, we wouldn't have come out in the first place. I wouldn't, at least." Shepherd's Glen hadn't been unpleasant to him in the past, but the swiftness of its degradation into an urban hell was somehow immensely troubling. Whatever had happened, it wiped a good portion of the city's population entirely off the map. Vanished people lost to mystery, years-old investigations still leading to nothing. He didn't want to be there, at least not in the empty parts of town that were host to vagabonds and criminals.<br/><br/>But with company, maybe a stay wouldn't be so bad. He pondered it, and offered a shrug. "Don't see why not. Can't say I'm doing much of anything for the next few days. What are you sticking around for?" Jacob inquired, curious. He could how the idea of exploring the area for more than just scrap parts and free tools would be appealing to others, but he was happy to remain in safer parts. Not to say he couldn't be convinced. Logan surely had <span style="font-style: italic">some</span> reason to want to stick around.</span>