The urge to say fuck your territory is so strong, he's nearly burning with it. The struggle is so real that he doesn't realize he's squeezing the dog until it makes an annoyed grumbling sound and begins squirming. He clues in quickly then, and shifts it in his arms so it'll settle back down.

As much as he hates to admit it, Daryl's decently close to the root of the problem with his last guess. Sort of. Ghoul can't stand the thought of turning his back to him- everything in him knows Daryl's not a prey animal, which makes him dangerous. The thought of making himself vulnerable, even just enough to turn and leave, makes him feel all jittery.

At least he doesn't have to make it sound that pathetic when he actually answers. "Been kinda hoping you'd fuck off first. I don't wanna deal with you breathin' down my neck, so..." He looks him over, filthy uniform and all. He's on the clock, right? "You look like you got a job, go do it."