"Fair point." He chuckles again, clearing his throat a second time. The sock was probably going to be stained regardless if he soaks it in cold water at the laundry station, so that was a bust. He feels a drip of blood fall from the angle his calf rests on. But Roland's pressing concern is that the cut had been left untreated and uncleaned for goodness knows how long. Time passes strangely when you're fighting hordes of monsters that wouldn't die on the first strike. And since he only noticed his injury on the train, Roland isn't sure if he had sustained the injury during the first or second time he had to barrel roll away from the beasts.

Dammit.

"I just wanted to catch my breath, really. Take stock of things before I hunkered down for the night. Or day. No clocks, right?" He tries to act playful, but only now does the pain start actually causing him visible discomfort, a throb he silently fights against. "I might get something to eat, yeah. Wasn't too fond of the grub, but hey. It was good for protein apparently."

He doesn't budge from his seat.

"Go ahead and do what you have to do to unwind, kid."

Maybe it's the kid comment that does it, that subtle nudge to go ahead which could alert someone that Roland is actively trying to hide something.