More tracks, and he points them out-- smaller, lighter indentations, clustered around the larger heel falls. A sow with piglets. This should be a good catch, if they can manage it. Daryl continues to creep along by, until stopping seemingly at random; he points to a tangled snarl of underbrush, messy and nest-like. A slow nod of his head, and he begins to walk backward, the way they came.

His voice is low. He walks closely with Maggie. From his pocket, he procures two bandannas-- not his usual, these are crisp and fresh, bright red. "Hogs can't see for shit. Tie 'em on someplace."