Classic movies are basically all Daryl has seen. Daytime specials on pre-digital network TV. Ask him about his rolodex of Katharine Hepburn jokes. Books, well. Mostly repair manuals. Not a big reader, surprise surprise.

In any event, he does a lot of listening to all that, in the mean time finishing with his willow piece, which by now looks like a funny pale switch. He silently offers it to Reid; maybe eventually he'll get the motivation to explain the knack about harvesting it, but he doesn't see the point, right now.

"Ain't about that."

And it's not. He's had bad experiences with law enforcement, yes, but he's had bad experiences with most people. Reid will learn sooner or later that the leader of their wandering group was a cop, before, and that he and Daryl are perfectly fine (close, family now). He's just aware, both of what people might be prone to, and how people might see him.

His inquiry wasn't about sizing him up, though. Mostly plain curiosity, but also—

"You just know, then. That people are the worse than the dead, out here."

Serial killers, rapists, and all the normal people who had been waiting for the opportunity to become. They thrive in the fall.