For the moment, indeed. He stays put, watching Daryl with one of those wild stares and growling at him. It's an awfully loud growl, maybe he can't hear Daryl's words over his own snarling.

Wishful thinking. Perhaps if he weren't so wound up, he'd be able to recognize voices or words. In his current emotional state, however, that's too much to ask. Language is nothing but noise to him- noise that he wouldn't mind cutting off entirely, so he does a quick little hop forward, snapping his teeth again.