Again, Daryl proves that he's not the biggest of talkers, and they settle into a silence as they continue walking back. The route that Reid usually takes to these trees takes him ten and a half minutes, assuming he doesn't stop to look at some new piece of nature that's sprung up.

"A Jodie Fos-- oh, Silence of the Lambs. I liked the book better." Neither movie nor book were particularly to Reid's taste, actually, but his team had sat him down one day and made him watch it -- a tradition they'd started when they'd found out Reid hadn't watched most classic movies.

Oh, right, he didn't answer the question.

"More like Jodie Foster," he admits. "I was in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We were called in when crime turned serial and the perpetrator needed to be found. Our job was to profile them; the way people commit crime can be incredibly revealing as to their demographics, personality, history, and so on, and we used that predicted information to find and catch them. We dealt mostly with serial killers, but also serial arsonists, bombers, poisoners, rapists, any kind of crime you can commit at least twice. Which is most of them!"

By the end of it, his hands are gesticulating wildly, revealing his passion for the topic. "We all had our own specialties in the team, but mine was, um-- being the resident nerd, I guess."

There'd been a tone in Daryl's voice, something that Reid had been very familiar with when the world hadn't been crawling with walkers. It's the I don't trust law enforcement because I've had bad experiences with them tone. Honestly, he's probably heard that tone more now. Too many cops and military people let their authority go to their heads when the world started breaking down.

Reid's hands link together, wringing worriedly. "You sound like you're not a fan," he says tentatively. "That's okay, you don't have to be."