"I was not a good lookin' kid. Too skinny. Too blonde. Grew out of the hair eventually. But that's about it."
But being sick for the good portion of his adult life didn't exactly make a large stature of a man. Of course, he wasn't that emaciated bed-ridden man he once was. Thanks to the witch's work, he had a healthier glow about him and a considerably stronger physique. But Doc would never be a big man, in any definition of the word.
"I reckon drinkin' and hollerin' is a quality imbued to all fathers. I think it comes with the territory of raising children. Or, so I imagine."
His drink was getting low. He filled his glass a finger's width from the brim and took a sip.
And as much as Doc enjoyed reminiscing on family, he was glad for the change in conversation.
"Yeah, sure. There's a lot of water. More water than land, I think. Oceans that can take a damn long time to cross. Rivers, lakes, streams. Water you can drink, water you can kill yourself drinking. And all manner of wild creatures living under its surface."
He took another sip.
"Now I never left my continent, which had many a peculiar beast in its own right. Many of which could trample a man to death with their size and number. But I have seen pictures of strange animals in the east with stripes and long necks and noses the length of a small pony. The people? Well, I wasn't much for the big cities. A little too crowded and not good for my health. But there were always people around, if you knew where to look."
Doc didn't rightly know what else he could say on the topic of people. As far as he had seen, they hadn't changed much since his time.