Scraping off the last piece of willow bark, Reid tucks it into the bag he's using, tucks the knife away as well, and finally takes a proper look at Daryl with a profiler's eye.
He looks like he's just about dead on his feet, which isn't exactly surprising, if they've pushed themselves from all the way over in Georgia. He's proficient in multiple kinds of weapons, and doesn't seem disturbed about having to kill the walkers. His clothes are well worn; functional, but damaged in places, so he either hasn't had the time or the know-how to fix the obvious holes. He has a strong sense of responsibility toward the people he'd brought here, though he seems a little wary about actually being here.
Not used to large communities of people, Reid might guess. Or maybe he just spends most of his time outdoors, and the prospect of the Forty-Eight's way of life seems daunting. He wouldn't be the first to feel that way.
"Maslowe's Heirarchy of Needs," he agrees. "It's a little outdated, but the premise is still mostly true. Physical safety, shelter, steady food and water, it's our most basic, most fundamental need. With the world the way it is, a lot of people have to go without even that."
He's lucky, Reid knows. The Forty-Eight is one of the more secure communities in the country, as far as he knows. It's practically flourishing, compared to many others.
He hikes his bag over his shoulder, slots the new batteries into his walkie, and tilts his head back in the direction of the Forty-Eight. "Come on, we'll head back, and you can have food, a shower, and rest, in whatever order you need those the most. And then once you wake up, I can show you around. The rest of your group are probably getting settled as we speak."
no subject
He looks like he's just about dead on his feet, which isn't exactly surprising, if they've pushed themselves from all the way over in Georgia. He's proficient in multiple kinds of weapons, and doesn't seem disturbed about having to kill the walkers. His clothes are well worn; functional, but damaged in places, so he either hasn't had the time or the know-how to fix the obvious holes. He has a strong sense of responsibility toward the people he'd brought here, though he seems a little wary about actually being here.
Not used to large communities of people, Reid might guess. Or maybe he just spends most of his time outdoors, and the prospect of the Forty-Eight's way of life seems daunting. He wouldn't be the first to feel that way.
"Maslowe's Heirarchy of Needs," he agrees. "It's a little outdated, but the premise is still mostly true. Physical safety, shelter, steady food and water, it's our most basic, most fundamental need. With the world the way it is, a lot of people have to go without even that."
He's lucky, Reid knows. The Forty-Eight is one of the more secure communities in the country, as far as he knows. It's practically flourishing, compared to many others.
He hikes his bag over his shoulder, slots the new batteries into his walkie, and tilts his head back in the direction of the Forty-Eight. "Come on, we'll head back, and you can have food, a shower, and rest, in whatever order you need those the most. And then once you wake up, I can show you around. The rest of your group are probably getting settled as we speak."