"Maybe..." he says noncomittally, trailing off, frown deepening as they get further into the graveyard. Something feels really fucking off, and it makes Archer feel like someone's going to descend on him, like his hackles are up. He fumbles with something in his waistcoat after a moment, producing a hunting knife and twirling it around his fingers idly before sticking it in his belt for easy access. Hopefully Shiro will trust that Archer doesn't intend to stick it in him, as he doesn't show any signs of aggression beyond being a little put off by the weird atmosphere. Then again, he is a drunk with a knife. Who knows what'll happen!

"There is for sure something here, and if I get bit and die of rabies I'm gonna be really mad. I literally - literally - cannot think of a lamer way to die. Except maybe the old tripped over a rock. Though at least then you can go out on the myth of being really good at falling at specific angles." He stops by a gravestone with worn writing on it, looking over the group out of interest, carefully avoiding stepping near the offerings. He has some standards. "Then again I guess if you die rabid you are also literally mad? I meant angry. Apoplectic. Maybe even verklempt. At the situation, not just because my brain was melting."

Archer talks a lot. Maybe it's just to fill the silence. Through the tough-guy persona, he's just as unsettled as Shiro is.