"Had bear pretty often," he says with a shrug. "Black bears everywhere up in the woods back home, always in everybody's garbage cans and sheds n' shit. Worse'n goddamn raccoons. They just taste like whatever they eat, is all, so it's fine if they've been eating fruit and leftover pizza but you get one that's eatin' nothing but fish, even, and it starts to get weird. Imagine one that's ate walkers for years."

(Barf.)

Hmph. Rick's almost wobbling. He must be more tired than Daryl thought - or it's just finally getting to him. Still, he's hitting the target. Damn show-off. Daryl just grunts. Yeah, yeah.

"Who said my arms don't hurt?"