Several packs of dogs, huh? Suppose that's a nice way of saying it. The scent of whiskey has him looking up, curious, even as he fumbles for one of his own smokes. Strikes a match with steady hands and breathes deep the floral smoke of tobacco and opium.

"This place." He says as if that's all the explanation the man needs. More important matters first.

"Where did you find that whiskey?"
Because if there's whiskey, there's bourbon. And maybe- just maybe- he could find a proper druggist to get the medicine he and Goody need.