"It's his home as much as yours," Daryl answered, shrugging before he moved further in to find a seat near Carl. One he could reach Tommy from to idly scratch at whatever part of his wiggly little body was closest at the moment. Dog was Carl's and knew it, but he seemed to like Daryl well enough from all the time he'd spent at the school apartment with him.

"Dogs like him are good bird dogs. Quail, grouse, pheasants, those sorts. Land around here's got plenty of that. The sooner we start, the better he'll be at it." Daryl turned his attention to the dog and spoke to him, voice taking on the same kind of tone he'd use for Judith, "You gonna help us keep dinner on the table? Yeah? You could be good at it, couldn't you?"