If Murphy had made a joke, he'd have likely gotten another smack to the head and some choice words, Connor's worry shifting into anger. He didn't though, and instead the only thing coursing through Connor's soul was comfort in the knowledge that the Lord was still looking out for them, wherever they were.

"No, none," he answered, tilting his head back to look up at the sky and try to wash some of the clinging mud off his face. His efforts were rewarded by a shower of hail falling down around them, causing him to shout and jerk an arm up to shield his face. "Fucking hell, what the fuck is this?"