He wouldn't have thrown it if he hadn't had absolute faith in her catching it, but it's still nice to see. Something like a smile hangs on his face, before flickering into disappearance under cloud cover.

"I dunno," Daryl says, skipping rungs on the latter at a time, landing flat-footed on crumbled macadam. "What'll make your sister believe that's what we were doin' the whole damn time?"