Something in Daryl goes soft with sympathy, hearing that Reid has people he's looking for. He understands that, despite having no ties to anyone from his life before the turn. The people he's with now are the only family he's ever cared about, the first people who've ever cared about him, and he's done all kinds of things to get them out of danger. (Or avenge wrongs. Sometimes, there's nothing else to be done besides even the scales.)

"Mm."

Silence for another while, except for footsteps and the last of his stripping of the thin willow branch. Accused of theft is kind of funny, though. Such ordinary crimes. Not long ago, Daryl shot a woman in the head because she was running a dictatorship with abducted survivors as slaves.

Hopefully Reid's friends are alright, or dead. The in between shit is all misery.

"Were you a tax fraud FBI agent, or like a .. Jodi Foster FBI agent?"

FBI agent sounds fake, honestly. It seems like something people made up for television. He's seen DEA agents before, stuck up pricks in windbreakers and blue shirts with their hands on their hips sneering at the state of the trailer he lived in with his brother, but they, too, seemed like imaginary people with no sense of how the people they policed actually lived. Strange.