Daryl shakes his head, a rueful expression twisted up on his face. "Nah," he says after a moment's hesitation. He sticks his hands in his pockets, frowning still.

But then, he's got a better question. "You been on your own all this time?" Or has he been rotting in some cell somewhere? Considering how things went with the Cetagandans, Daryl thinks it's high time he got his head out of his ass and prepared for the worst.