He knew that dog. Dog probably didn't recognize him, though. Not with all the grease and garage smells on his jumpsuit. He'd seen her in Lance's place when Faolan brought him by to investigate the man's kidnapping. She'd been awfully friendly, then, too.

Daryl stepped through and shut the door behind him. Moved so he could take a seat opposite Lance. Far enough away that it would be difficult for the dog to get too close and get that lovely white fur all dirty.

He doesn't say anything as he sits down, just lifts his head and looks attentive.