"Yeah. Like us." What else would he be? A chicken? She's starting to tread on dangerous ground, she realizes, surrounded by a camp full of people who see nothing wrong with executing a man in public. Lowering her voice, she adds, "Just because it's a war doesn't mean they stop being people."

Beth frowns up at him, the way he stares at something no one else can see. Maybe he's from home--maybe he's the one person out of dozens who'd know what walkers are, even if he calls them biters or rotters. That would explain--sort of--why he hardly blinks at the idea of more death, why he thinks the dead man's going to return (sooner than a week, though, it'd be a matter of minutes or hours). Maybe this is how he deals with it.