[ Daryl grins and rolls his eyes at that, then leans into the fridge to see what's least likely to poison Dog. He doesn't like eating a thing here in Hell, not after all the ways he's been dosed and tricked, but they've been okay so far since getting out of the 'burbs. The last of the carcass of what Daryl hopes was a chicken will have to do. ]

What do they teach you in the future, huh?

[ But it's said with equal parts affection and wonder. Just coming from somewhere where packaged food was still readily available seems exotic to Daryl. ]

Staples and pantry shit all ran out years ago where I'm from. Scavenged or rotted. I gotta teach you how to stew up somethin' from scratch.

[ He sets the plate down for Dog then fills a bowl with water. When he's done, he finds himself drifting back across the suite towards Gabe. ]

Even after all this time it still feels strange not havin' to hunt here.