Ashton was rather surprised when Nightingale brought him his stuff and only asked for a small portion of his offer, "Thats certainly doable, thanks a lot." he said sincerely before opening the bag. He reached in, lovingly brushing his shotgun for a second before digging around and pulling out a bandage roll, a silver flask, his bowie knife, and two cans of pork n' beans, "Bon appetit." Ashton said before tossing the cans to Nightingale. The wanderer quickly unlaced his boot and sucked in a deep breath before pulling it off gently. There was plenty of blood, though thankfully the bullet hadn't gone too deep, nor did it knick and artery, all in all Ash was certain he'd be able to walk on his own within a few hours of treating the wound. 

"This is going to suck..." he mumbled before uncapping the flask and pouring the contents onto the wound. Theres nothing quite like feeling 90 proof whiskey seeping into a wound, that is to say, there's no burning pain quite like it, the alcohol made for an excellent disinfectant though, so for now Ash would have to suck it up. Pulling his knife from its sheath, Ash doused the blade in whiskey as well before jamming the tip into his flesh and easing the bullet out, gritting his teeth to avoid making a sound as it rose bit by bit before popping out with a gush of blood. Ever the endurer Ashton wrapped his foot and carefully slipped it back into his boot with nary a sound, then thanked his long since deceased sister for showing him how to dress a wound properly. It may not have been pretty, but it would help him get to a town where he could get a hold of a doctor.