Daryl looks away and back to what he's doing, not sure how to handle the— compliment? remark? Because he doesn't have a lot of different talents. All he knows how to do is survive on very little. He supposes it can look that way to people who haven't had to do it, but he still feels strange about having it pointed out.

At least Spencer doesn't actively make him feel like a freak when he says shit like that, though. He seems to mean everything earnestly. It goes a way to unwind some of the tension that threatens to pull a stitch between his shoulders. So he just makes a noncommittal sound, and continues wrapping up the last of his game assortments, one of which he decides at the last minute to keep separated from the rest going out. He's already separated and kept the grossest bits for himself, not wanting to give people anything to waste, but. An idea is forming.

"Yeah?" a glance at the younger man. A bit of relief. Despite the potential for conflict and growing pains, he expected it after seeing how short this place is on protection. But it's still nice to hear. "...Won't be too bad to clear out. Ain't got much activity in the area."

Momentary fidgeting. Daryl fusses with a folded edge of wax paper, uncertain. He's sure Reid won't be unkind to him if he shoots down the offer, but he still finds himself grappling for the fortitude to cough up a question.