For once Bishop wasn’t trying to find some kind of fight to drown out his ever troubling thoughts. No, today he’s laid out flat on one of the bench seats of the table the Hellhound officers have claimed as theirs, his arm thrown over his eyes and if a person didn’t know him well they’d have assumed he was sleeping. He wasn’t. It was a rare moment these days when the Chaplain found his mind quiet enough to sleep. Still, it isn’t until a familiar voice breaks through the drone of the yard that he finds himself sitting up to see with his own two eyes that their leader has indeed returned to them in one piece. Cocky as hell still, but definitely alive and whole.
Things like this, they’re a small blessing and Bishop can only assume some kind of deal was made for Rodeo's release back into gen pop. He’s curious about what kind of deal might have been struck, but those questions are chased away by the conversation at hand. “Nah, he’s only insulting us ‘cause he knows damn well we’ve improved his damn books,” he cuts in, flashing a smirk that’s a rare sight for anyone to see these days. “And his ego just don’t want to let him acknowledge that fact.”
There’s only about a beat of silence before Bishop adds. “It’s good to see you in one damn piece,” all joking is gone from his voice, replaced by true sincerity. Of the many things plaguing his mind lately, Rodeo making it out of the seg unit alive had been up at the top of that list, right up there under the ever present thoughts of Teagan and how more and more doubt was creeping in as to her being their rat.