I'm not like you, I need people. Daryl stares into the sunless sky, and lets his eyes catch the uncaring stars. They're probably fake. He tried navigating by them once, and he ended up spinning in circles. Nothing makes sense, here. None of the old rules, from when the old world functioned, apply, and half the rules from the world of the dead are pretty near useless.
"How long you been here?" And then Daryl remembers how little patience Quentin has for leading questions. "World ended-- where I'm from-- near on ten years back."
He remembers Sophia, the farm, hiding on the edge of their group, worrying and feeling dejected.
"What you're feeling-- everybody's feeling it. Just-... I felt it ten years back."
As for good things, well. He knows better than to try and convince someone as young and angry and desperate as Quentin that good things are happening, will continue to do so. That's something the kid's get for his own self.
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"How long you been here?" And then Daryl remembers how little patience Quentin has for leading questions. "World ended-- where I'm from-- near on ten years back."
He remembers Sophia, the farm, hiding on the edge of their group, worrying and feeling dejected.
"What you're feeling-- everybody's feeling it. Just-... I felt it ten years back."
As for good things, well. He knows better than to try and convince someone as young and angry and desperate as Quentin that good things are happening, will continue to do so. That's something the kid's get for his own self.