Well. There is a stranger in her home, and thank goodness he's not a vampire or a fae, because then there would be hell to pay. He had to be the sort that didn't need to be invited in, Gran knew. Narrowing her eyes, the tiny woman started to walk towards him.

"Who are you?" She asked in her thick Irish accent, "Quickly, or I'll have the police here." She didn't need the cops, she could probably take him down herself, still being particularly agile for her age.

"Daryl?" Annie had made it to the training room before realizing that her guest wasn't with her, and called his name as she retraced her steps. Gran had just reached him when she returned to the scene of the potential crime. "Daryl- there you are. Oh, Gran- hi. This is Daryl Dixon." Quick, damage control. "He's uhm, a friend from Hillingdon."

Gran seems to accept this, and extends a wrinkled hand. "Another American friend, Annie?" She says with a small smile as she looks over at her granddaughter. "And the first I get to meet. Welcome to my home, Daryl. You may call me Mags."