Daryl leans up against a nearby tree, and unsuccessfully tries to make it look as though the tree isn't the major thing keeping him upright. "What about you?" His voice dips into a curious hiss, a challenge if there ever was one. "Putting yourself right up in their goddamn faces."

The sick people, he means. He understands her willingness to help, but she's got as much chance of getting killed as him, in his mind.