Wyatt's question actually had more to do with what R thinking he was doing sneaking around in the dark, in the rain, alone. It was a good way to get himself killed... as Wyatt had nearly seen done for him.

But as he looked back, rubbing the lingering tickle of R's cold, dead fingers from his mustache, he realized abruptly why R hadn't announced himself.

Hard to explain much of anything when someone'd run off with your jawbone.

He stared, blinking, the moment silent but before the drizzle of the rain.

"...Ya... hurt, son?"

Belated, he figured that was probably a rather silly thing to ask, given the circumstances.