After prison Conell understandably didn't do so well sitting idly in one place if he had any other option. Besides, with Luke being weirdly slumped against a damn tree his new friend might need a little backup, or at least someone to watch his back. That was enough reason to get out of the car, in Conell's mind at least. He made it so his gun was on his back but he kept his eyes scanning the area, looking out for any possible threat. They were in some what of a dead spot though. There didn't seem to be anyone or anything on the horizon. For a few seconds Conell became paranoid of the man he had beaten. Could he have recovered really quickly and followed him? Maybe he had a group. Or at least a couple of friends... No, he had been alone, and he was so badly beaten that he wasn't sitting up for another few hours at least. They were safe. Well, not Luke apparently. From the look of him and the conversation they were having he was utterly fucked. It wasn't too bad a place to die though, the view was pretty at least. Conell approached slowly behind Marshall, not sneaking, but carefully.
“I'm sorry... If you don't want to do it Marshall, I can, but I don't really know you sadly.” Conell said to both Marshall and Luke, but keeping his eyes on the latter, looking into his deep and sad eyes towards the end of the sentence. “This isn't my place, but I can step up if needed. I don't hate you anywhere near enough to allow you such a slow and horrible death.”